Chronicles of Hogwarts: Underneath These Stairs
by dumbledearme
Summary: Genderbend. A world where Harry, Ron, Dudley, Dumbledore, Draco, Neville, Lupin and Voldemort are all girls. Hermione and Luna, on the other hand, are both boys. -Chronicles of Hogwarts #3 Generation-
1. prologue

Alright.

 _Here we go._

I've already mentioned that I absolutely love genderbend, haven't I? And Harry Potter has this persevere amount of male characters! Like, I want GIRLPOWER, MAN! That's what I live for!

Seriously though, Harry Potter is perfect and I wouldn't change anything. I really wouldn't. This here is just to have some fun with the whole concept of _'what if'_.

 **I don't own anything,** I have no rights, my writing is garbage and I'll never be J. K. Rowling. I don't intend to gain anything from this just want to spend my time having fun with this story I absolutely adore.

Just to make it clear, my plans of HPGenderbend go as far as three fanfics. The first one I haven't started writing yet (curiouser and curiouser) but it's supposed to be about Atlas (Albus) Dumbledore and everything she/he ever did. The second one I posted one chapter already. It's called _Chronicles of Hogwarts: Time Steals Nothing_ , and it's about Rita (Remus) Lupin and her/his time in Hogwarts and what happened after she/he got out. So this is the third and the last one, and it's about Eugenia Potter, the girl who lived.

Why Eugenia? It's quite simple really. James Potter's mom was called _Euphemia_ Potter. I thought it'd be just fitting for him to name his child after her. I don't know. I'll keep briefing you guys on the names as the story goes forward, don't you worry.

And one last thing... Eva Green is Atlas Dumbledore in my head, if that helps. I've watched the trailer of _Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children_ and I was like whoa how about that. She's so freakin' gorgeous, like damn!

Okay, enough gibberish. We have a story to tell.

 _"It takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends."_

* * *

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part I - _terrible mistakes_

* * *

Atlas had been through a lot. During her long years, more than once she thought she'd seen everything. And more than once she had been proven wrong.

When she got word… when she heard what had happened… Atlas tightened her eyes for a second. Wouldn't do to get carried away. She had much important things to do.

The street was deserted when she appeared in the corner. She appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought she'd just popped out of the ground. Certainly nothing like herself had ever been seen on Privet Drive. She was a tall, thin woman with a pale face framed by hair dark as ebony. She didn't look the years she had endured; still possessed most of the wicked beauty she'd been known for in her youth. Her blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling cold, and her nose was long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. She wore robes that covered her from neck to feet. Black robes, _always_ black robes. Her mourning never ended. And the pain would never cease.

Atlas realized that she had just arrived in a street where everything from her name to her boots was unwelcome. She was too busy rummaging in her cloak, looking for that damn Deluminator, to care. She was always misplacing things in those endless pockets. She found the silver cigarette lighter and flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. She clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times she clicked the Deluminator, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, the eyes of a yellow-stripped cat that watched her from a wall.

Atlas had to smile. She raised her head to the feline, which was still staring at her from the other end of the street, and muttered, "I should have known." She slipped the Deluminator back inside her cloak and set off down the street toward number 4, where she sat down on the wall next to the cat. Without looking at the animal, she added, "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

When she turned to smile at the tabby, it had gone. Instead Atlas was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Minerva," Atlas smiled, "I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day, my dear woman? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Atlas tried to keep her voice light although her words weighed with sadness.

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily and Atlas suspected her friend was suffering as much as she was. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the dark living-room window of number 4. "I heard it. Flocks of owls… shooting stars… Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Atlas gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Atlas here, as though hoping she was going to tell her something, but Atlas didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose she really has gone, Dumbledore?"

Atlas held a sigh. Everyone would be asking her that for the years to come. "It certainly seems so. We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop, Minerva. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. Atlas chuckled; it was so easy to irritate her. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone-"

Now here was one of the few things that irritated Atlas. "My dear Minerva, surely a sensible person like yourself can call her by her name? All this _'You- Know-Who'_ nonsense... for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call her by her proper name: Malvina." McGonagall flinched, but Atlas, who was unsticking two lemon drops, pretended not to have noticed. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying _'You-Know-Who.'_ What if I don't know who? I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying someone's name."

"I know you haven't," said McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-oh, all right, _Malvina_ , was frightened of."

"You flatter me more than I deserve," said Atlas calmly. "Malvina had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too... well... _noble_ to use them."

Atlas giggled like a little girl. She loved to hear what people thought of her, especially when it were good things. If they only knew who she'd been, what she'd done… If they knew her weaknesses, her fears, maybe they wouldn't jump into such undeserved compliments. "It's lucky it's dark," she said. "I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."

Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at her and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why she's disappeared? About what finally stopped her?"

It seemed that Minerva had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Atlas with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Atlas told her it was true. Once more in these long years of friendship, Atlas felt a wave of pride for knowing someone so loyal.

"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Malvina turned up in Godric's Hollow. She went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are... are... that they're... _dead_. "

Atlas finally raised her eyes from the lemon drops and looked her friend in the face. _Oh no._ Atlas realized she'd been wrong. McGonagall did not know! Or refused to believe until now which was even worse. Suddenly, the pain in Atlas's chest made it hard for her to breathe. She'd have to say it. She'd have to confess her defeat, her mistake, her disgrace.

She bowed her head. McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James… I can't believe it… I didn't want to believe it… Oh, Atlas…"

Atlas reached out and awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. Although wishing to console her friend, Atlas had never been great with physical contact. "I know… I know…" she said heavily.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying she tried to kill the Potter's daughter. But... she couldn't. She couldn't kill that little girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when she couldn't kill Eugenia Potter, Malvina's power somehow broke... and that's why she's gone."

Atlas nodded glumly. At least she wouldn't have to tell the whole story. Not tonight.

"It's... it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all she's done… all the people she's killed… she couldn't kill a little baby girl? It's just astounding… of all the things to stop her… but how in the name of heaven did little Nia survive?"

"We can only guess," said Atlas keeping her face straight. "We may never know." It was half true. However good her ideas were, although her speculations more often than not proved to be corrected, there was always the chance she was wrong. She had made mistakes before, hadn't she? Some terrible mistakes.

McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Atlas's eyes were full of tears but she refused to let them fall. Took a golden watch from her pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. Atlas put it back in her pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes. And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring little Nia to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family she has left."

"You don't mean... you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number 4. "Dumbledore, you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this daughter... I saw her kicking her mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Eugenia Potter come and live here!"

That was precisely why Atlas hadn't told anyone what she meant to do… No one would understand. They'd try to change her mind. And how Atlas would love to have her mind changed… If she were being honest with herself, she'd raise the girl herself, as her own. But the dangers that would bring? For the whole wizarding community… And the girl… The girl would be safer here. Or at least that's what Atlas would tell herself in the sleepless nights to come. With a little bit of luck, she might just believe it…

"It's the best place for her," she said firmly. "Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand her! She'll be famous, a legend. I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Eugenia Potter day in the future. There will be books written about her, every child in our world will know her name!"

"Exactly," said Atlas, taking that chance to use Minerva's words against her. "It would be enough to turn any girl's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off she'll be, growing up away from all that until she's ready to take it?"

McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes... yes, you're right, of course, as usual. But how is the girl getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed her cloak suddenly as though she thought Atlas might be hiding Nia underneath it.

Atlas grinned. "Hagrid's bringing her."

Minerva's eyes widened. "You think it _wise_ to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life."

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to... what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky, and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild, long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Atlas relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, ma'am," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got her, ma'am."

"No problems, were there?" asked Atlas, finding suspicious the mention of Sirius Black. _Could it be…?_

"No, ma'am. House was almost destroyed, but I got her out before the Muggles started swarmin' around. She fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."

Atlas and Minerva bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over her forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.

"Is that where-?" whispered McGonagall.

"Yes," said Atlas. "She'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give her here, Hagrid." Suddenly, Atlas wanted nothing more than getting this over with. She took little Nia in her arms and turned toward the number 4.

"Could I... could I say good-bye to her, ma'am?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Nia and gave her what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it... Lily an' James dead... an' poor little Nia off ter live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," McGonagall whispered as Atlas stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

Atlas laid little Nia gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of her cloak, tucked it inside Nia's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Minerva blinked furiously, and the twinkling flame of hope in which Atlas held on seemed to have gone out.

"Well," she decided, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore…" Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Minerva," said Atlas, nodding to her.

McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Atlas turned and walked back down the street. On the corner she stopped and took out the Deluminator. She clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed and Atlas could make out the tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. She could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number 4.

The last time she had felt like this… _No._ She couldn't think of them. She wouldn't. Not about those who were gone. Those she had lost. Here was a child representing so many possibilities… Maybe hope had died inside of Atlas to reborn in that one little girl that kept on sleeping, not knowing how special she was, not knowing how famous she was… She had not way of knowing that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and toasting at her name.

"Good luck, Nia," Atlas murmured, wishing desperately that this time she was doing the very right thing. That her mistakes wouldn't be repeated. That this time, the innocent wouldn't have to pay.

She turned on her heel and with a swish of her cloak, Atlas was gone.


	2. chapter one

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part II - _don't ask questions_

* * *

Privet Drive had hardly changed at all in the last ten years. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number 4 on the Dursleys' front door. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of a girl with golden curls playing at the beach, but Daisy Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a longed neck, bony girl riding her first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing dress up with her mother's clothes, being hugged and kissed by her parents.

The room held no sign at all that another girl lived in the house, too. Yet little Nia Potter was still there, asleep at the moment. Her Aunt Petunia's shrill voice made the first noise of the day: "Up! Get up! Now!"

Nia woke with a start.

Her aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched.

Nia heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it; that was Nia's favorite dream.

Her aunt was back outside the door. "Get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Daisy's birthday."

Nia groaned. _Daisy's birthday..._ how could he have forgotten? Nia got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. She found a pair under her bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Nia was used to spiders, because the cupboard _under the stairs_ was full of them, and that was where she slept.

When she was dressed she went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Daisy's birthday presents. There were bags with all those stupid labels she was so fond of: _Coco Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Victoria Secret,_ etc. That was all she ever got, new clothes, perfumes, jewelry, make up and shoes. Nia had been quite pleased when Daisy started wearing girly shoes; now, when angry, she couldn't run fast enough to punish Nia.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Nia had always been small for her age. Which, in the end, turned out to be a lucky thing because Daisy's tight, revealing clothes seemed ordinary sized when Nia wore them. Daisy was always giving Nia her old clothes because she had to keep up with whatever that was trending at the time.

Nia had a heart shaped face decorated with round green eyes. She kept her dark hair short so Daisy couldn't pull it so much. The only thing she liked about her own appearance was a very thin scar on her forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. She had had it as long as she could remember, and the first question she could ever remember asking her Aunt Petunia was how she had gotten it.

Soon she learned her lesson: "Don't ask questions." That was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Nia was turning over the bacon. "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. He should've known better: her hair simply grew that way, all over the place.

Daisy arrived in the kitchen with her mother. She looked a lot like Aunt Petunia. They were both blonde with pale eyes, horse-like front teeth and nearly twice the usual amount of neck. The only thing she had inherited from her father was perhaps that vein in her neck that threatened to explode whenever she got pissed off.

She soon started opening the pyramid of presents. The telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Nia and Uncle Vernon watched Daisy wrestle with the wrappings. Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take her," and she jerked her head in Nia's direction.

Daisy's mouth fell open in horror. Every year, her parents took her out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Nia was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made Nia look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Nia even knew their names by heart now… Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, Tufty…

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Nia as though she'd planned this.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the girl."

The Dursleys often spoke about Nia like this, as though she wasn't there or as though she was too stupid to understand them.

"You could just leave me here," Nia put in hopefully.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find the house in ruins? I don't think so. I suppose we could take her to the zoo… and leave her in the car…"

"That car's new, she's not sitting in it alone…"

Daisy started to complain really loud and really fast. That was how she was taught to deal with life's problems: by yelling.

"Mummy won't let her spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia said.

 _"I… don't… want… her… to… come!"_ Daisy yelled. "She always messes everything up!"

But Nia went indeed along. Her aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with her. However, before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had warned her: "Any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas." Nia swore she wouldn't do anything. Uncle Vernon didn't believe her. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Nia and it was just no good telling the Dursleys she didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut her hair so short she was almost bald except for her bangs, which she left _to hide that horrible scar_. Next morning, however, Nia had gotten up to find her hair exactly as it had been before she'd cut it. Another time, Aunt Petunia tried to force her into a revolting old sweater Daisy had rejected. The harder she tried to pull it over Nia's head, the smaller it seemed to become

But today, nothing was going to go wrong, Nia promised herself.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Nia, the council, Nia, the bank, and Nia were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Daisy a large chocolate ice cream and a cheap lemon ice pop for Nia who was having her best day ever. She was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Daisy, who was starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on her favorite hobby of hitting Nia.

Nia felt, afterward, that she should have known it was all too good to last.

They went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Daisy wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and quickly found the largest snake in the place. But at the moment it didn't look in the mood to entertain. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Daisy stood with her nose pressed against the glass. "Make it move," she whined at her father.

Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Daisy ordered.

Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

Daisy moaned and shuffled away.

Nia moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. "Don't mind her," she said softly. "She doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you. It must be worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor's Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake me up. At least I get to visit the rest of the house if…"

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Nia's. "I get this all the time," it said although snakes couldn't talk.

Nia gawked. Then she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake wondering if she was imagining all this. The snake waited patiently for her to speak. Nia cleared her throat and said: "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"You're from Burma, aren't you?" Nia asked. "Was it nice there, do you miss your family?"

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Nia peered at it: _Bred in the zoo._

"Oh, I see... so you've never met your family?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Nia made both of them jump. "YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Daisy came waddling toward them as fast as she could and pushed Nia away.

And then, one second, Daisy was leaning right up close to the glass, the next, she fell through it as if the glass had vanished. Daisy yelled like a crazy person when she realized there was nothing left separating her and the snake. But the great snake didn't pay any attention to her, uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past Nia, she said in a low, hissing voice said, _"Thanksss."_

Aunt Petunia appeared wailing desperately. "But the glass," she kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

Uncle Vernon on the other hand looked at Nia once and decided she was to blame. As soon as they were home, he managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Nia lay in her dark cupboard much later, wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food. This was her longest-ever punishment. By the time she was allowed out of her cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Daisy had already filled her wardrobe with new clothes.

One day in July, they were having breakfast when they heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. From behind his paper, Uncle Vernon told Nia to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, a bill, and a letter for Nia.

Her heart raced. No one, _ever_ , in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no friends, no other relatives and she didn't even belong to the library. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

 _Miss E. Potter_

 _The Cupboard under the Stairs_

 _4 Privet Drive_

 _Little Whinging_

 _Surrey_

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Turning the envelope over, she saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"What's taking so long?" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

Nia went back to the kitchen, still staring at her letter. She handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. She was on the point of unfolding her letter when it was jerked sharply out of her hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" she said, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge. "P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. "Vernon! Oh my goodness, Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Nia and Daisy were still in the room. Daisy wasn't used to being ignored. "I want to read that letter," she said loudly.

"It's mine," Nia said again.

Uncle Vernon croaked that they both should leave. He stuffed the letter back inside its envelope. Since the girls didn't move, he took them both by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them.

Nia and Daisy exchanged a look.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying behind the closed door, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where she sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching... spying... might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. "No. No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer… Yes, that's best… we won't do anything…"

"But–"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening, Uncle Vernon visited Nia in her cupboard. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful. "Er - yes, about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… you're really getting a bit big for it… we think it might be nice if you moved into Daisy's second bedroom. Take your stuff upstairs, now, will you."

It only took Nia one trip upstairs to move everything she owned from the cupboard to the room where Daisy kept everything she couldn't fit in her actual bedroom. She sat down on the bed and stared around her. Nearly everything in here was broken. Except for the books that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Daisy bawling at her mother, "I don't want her in there… I need that room… make her get out…"

Nia sighed and stretched out on the bed.

Next morning at breakfast, another letter arrived, this time addressed to the bedroom where she was staying. Uncle Vernon quickly got rid of it. Nia walked round and round her new room. Someone knew she had moved out of her cupboard and they seemed to know she hadn't received her first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again?

The answer was _yes_.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Nia. Uncle Vernon had stayed at home and he burned all the letters at the fireplace.

On Saturday, exactly twenty-four letters found their way into the house. Uncle Vernon even made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Daisy asked Nia in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy. "No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully, "no damn letters today…"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Nia leapt into the air trying to catch one…

Uncle Vernon seized her hands stopping her. "That does it," he shouted. "We're going away. Away from here!" He looked so crazy that no one dared argue.


	3. chapter two

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part III - _load of old tosh_

* * *

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. When night fell, Uncle Vernon parked at the coast and disappeared for half an hour. He came back carrying a package and smiling.

"Found the perfect place!" he said and pointed at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. They were taken there on a rowboat that belonged to a toothless old man who, from time to time, kept saying: "They're announcing a storm for tonight!"

The night was freezing. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. The inside was horrible and smelled strongly of seaweed.

Uncle Vernon was in a very good mood. As night fell, the storm blew up around them. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets and made up a bed for Daisy on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the single bedroom, and Nia was left to find the softest bit of floor she could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

The storm raged ferociously. Nia couldn't sleep. She shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, her stomach rumbling with hunger. She wondered where the letter writer was now. Nia heard something creak outside and hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that she'd be able to steal one somehow.

Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

 _BOOM._

The whole shack shivered and Nia sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

 _BOOM._

They knocked again. Daisy jerked awake. "What…?"

Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room followed by Aunt Petunia. "Who's there?" he shouted.

Silence. Then…

 _SMASH!_

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway holding a pink umbrella. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. He squeezed his way into the hut.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey…"

He strode over to the sofa where Daisy sat frozen with fear. She squeaked and ran to hide behind her mother.

"An' little Nia," said the giant. Nia looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile. "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise. "I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant.

Uncle Vernon made another funny noise.

"Uh… Who are you?" Nia asked.

The giant chuckled. "True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." He pointed his umbrella at the fireplace and, a second later, there was a roaring fire there. Nia thankfully felt the warmth wash over her.

The giant sat back down on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are," Nia insisted.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts; yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er… no."

Hagrid looked so shocked Nia quickly apologized. Hagrid turned to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Nia.

This time, Hagrid's shock stopped him from answering. He leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled, "that this girl - _this girl!_ \- knows nothin' abou' - about our world?"

"What world?" Nia asked.

"Your world," he said exasperated. "My world. Yer parents' world. Yeh must know about yer mom and dad… I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My… my mom and dad were famous?"

"Yeh don' know… yeh don' know… " Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Nia with a bewildered stare. "Yeh don' know what yeh are?"

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. "Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the girl anything!"

Hagrid looked at him and when he spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage. "YOU NEVER TOLD HER? NEVER TOLD HER WHAT WAS IN THE LETTER DUMBLEDORE LEFT FOR HER? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from her all these years?"

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

Hagrid looked back at Nia, determined. "Yer a witch."

There was silence inside the hut. The Nia giggled. Was it possible? It was typical of Daisy. A prank. Nia glanced at her cousin who still coward behind her mother. If Daisy were behind this though she didn't seem like she was enjoying it very much. But… Nia turned serious again when she saw the look on the giant's face.

"An' a thumpin' good 'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Nia stretched out her hand at last to take the yellowish envelope. She pulled out the letter and read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

 _Headmaster: Atlas Dumbledore_ _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Miss Potter, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

Questions exploded inside Nia's head like fireworks and she couldn't decide which to ask first. Uncle Vernon save her the embarrassment.

"She's not going," he said.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop her," Hagrid grunted.

"We swore when we took her in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of her! Witch indeed!"

"You knew?" said Nia. "You knew all along…?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that… that school. I was the only one who saw her for what she was: a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!" She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. "Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as… as _abnormal_ … and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Nia had gone very white. Her aunt and uncle had never, ever, mentioned her parents. This was the most she had heard about them and, although it hurt, she needed to hear more.

"That's absurd!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "It's an outrage! A scandal! Eugenia Potter not knowin' her own story when every kid in our world knows her name!"

"But why? What happened?" Nia asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. "I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, little Nia, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh… but someone's gotta… yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'." He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys. "Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh, mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…" He sat down again staring at the fire. "It begins, I suppose, with… with a person called… but it's incredible yeh don't know her name, everyone in our world knows…"

"Who?"

"Well… I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Nia, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this witch who went… _bad_. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. Her name was…" Hagrid gulped and said very quickly: "Malvina." He shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this… this witch, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too. Some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' her power, 'cause she was gettin' herself power, all right. Dark days, Nia. Didn't know who ter trust. Terrible things happened. She was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to her… an' she killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway."

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on her side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe she thought she could persuade 'em… maybe she just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, she turned up in the village where you was all living ten years ago. She came ter yer house an'… an'…" Hagrid pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's sad. I knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find… You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then… an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing… she tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe she just liked killin' by then. But she couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh. Took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even, but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Nia. No one ever lived after she decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' she'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age, an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Nia was silent. Didn't know what to say, what to feel. Hagrid was watching her sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…"

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. Nia jumped; she had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. "Now, you listen here, girl," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured… and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion. Asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types, just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and lifted the pink umbrella. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley… I'm warning you… one more word…"

Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

Nia, meanwhile, still had questions to ask. "But what happened to Mal… sorry… I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night she tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see… she was gettin' more an' more powerful, why'd she go? Some say she died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if she had enough human left in her to die. Some say she's still out there, bidin' her time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on her side came back ter ours. Most of us reckon she's still out there somewhere but lost her powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished her, Nia. There was somethin' goin' on that night she hadn't counted on… I dunno what it was, no one does… but somethin' about you stumped her, all right."

Hagrid looked at Nia with warmth and respect blazing in her eyes, but Nia, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake.

A witch? Her? And that whole story… Part of Nia still thought this was a prank. But some other part… the part that was thinking about every odd thing that had ever made her aunt and uncle furious with her… And the snake… Hadn't it talked to Nia?

Hagrid smiled like he could read her mind. "You wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight. "Haven't I told you she's not going?" he hissed. "She's going to Stonewall High and she'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and she needs all sorts of rubbish, spell books and wands and…"

"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop her," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's daughter goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Her name's been down ever since she was born. She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and she won't know herself. She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Atlas Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT LADY TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER, " he thundered, "INSULT ATLAS DUMBLEDORE IN FRONT OF ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Daisy. There was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Daisy was dancing on the spot with her hands clasped over her bottom, howling in pain. When she turned her back on them, Nia saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in her trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Daisy into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. "Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I'm… er… not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'."

"Why not?" asked Nia.

"Oh, well… I was at Hogwarts meself but I… er… got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great woman, Dumbledore." Hagrid cleared his throat. "Best be off, Nia, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."


	4. chapter three

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part IV - _curiouser and curiouser_

* * *

"Best be off," said Hagrid, "lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

The word buy hit Nia like a wrecking ball. She had just thought of something that made her feel more miserable than she'd been before the giant's arrival.

"Um... Hagrid?"

"Mm?"

"I haven't got any money and you heard Uncle Vernon last night... he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything? Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Run by goblins, see? So yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Nia. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "She usually gets me ter do important stuff fer her. Fetchin' you, gettin' things from Gringotts... knows she can trust me, see."

Nia followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there. They settled down in the boat. Hagrid gave Nia one of his sideways looks. "If I was ter... er... speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course not," said Nia, eager to see more magic.

Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.

"Only goblins guard Gringotts?" she asked.

"No, no. Spells... enchantments... They say there's dragons guardin' the highsecurity vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way. Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Nia sat and thought about this while Hagrid brought a newspaper from his pocket, the Daily Prophet. Nia had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they read, but it was very difficult, she'd never had so many questions in her life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?"

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore, o' course, but she'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street. Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station.

"You said there are dragons at Gringotts?" she asked running to keep up with the giant.

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon. Wanted one ever since I was a kid. Here we go." They had reached the station. People stared more than ever on the train once Hagrid took up two seats and started knitting. Nia sat in front of him and decided to check her Hogwarts' list, wondering if they really could find all that stuff in London.

Nia had never been to London before and Hagrid, although he seemed to know where he was going, was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. They climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops. Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily.

On the way there, Nia once more asked herself if this could be another prank the Dursleys had prepared for her... However she doubted they had the imagination to pull this off. And, although everything Hagrid had told her so far seemed so unbelievable, she couldn't help but trust him.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Nia wouldn't have noticed it was there. Inside, it was dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, a little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," he said gesturing to Nia beside him.

"Merlin's beard," said the bartender. The Leaky Cauldron suddenly went completely still and silent. "It's Eugenia Potter." And he hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Nia and seized her hand, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Miss Potter, welcome back."

Nia didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at her. There was a great scraping of chairs and Nia found herself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"I can't believe I'm meeting you at last..."

"So proud, Miss Potter, I'm just so proud..."

"Always wanted to shake your hand, I'm all of a flutter..."

"Delighted, Miss Potter, just can't tell you..."

Nia shook a lot of hands until a pale young man made his way forward, very nervously.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Nia, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping her hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Nia to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. "Must get on... lots ter buy. Come on, Nia."

Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can. Hagrid grinned at her. "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Where's me umbrella?" He was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can. "Three up... two across... Right, stand back." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella and the brick quivered. It wriggled and in the middle, a small hole appeared, and it grew wider and wider. A second later they were facing an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

They stepped through the archway. Nia wished she had about eight more eyes. She turned her head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping.

They reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was a goblin. He was about a head shorter than Nia. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside.

They were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Nia made for the counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Miss Eugenia Potter's safe."

"You have her key, sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter. The goblin wrinkled his nose. "Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.

The goblin looked at it closely. "That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, pulling it from his pocket. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully. "Very well," said. "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Hagrid and Nia followed him toward one of the doors leading off the hall. Nia asked what was the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen, but Hagrid said he couldn't talk about it. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me."

They went through a doorway into a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in and were off. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way.

When the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. Griphook unlocked the door. Nia gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All hers... it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from her faster than blinking. Hagrid helped her pile some of it into a bag and explained how much they were worth. Then turned to Griphook.

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please."

They went even deeper now. The air became colder and colder.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. Griphook stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," he explained.

Knowing that something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Nia leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see something fabulous, but there was only a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Nia longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.

Outside Gringotts, Hagrid told Nia to go buy her uniform at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He made her go inside by herself saying he needed some fresh air after the Gringotts carts.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot here." In the back of the shop, Madam Malkin put Nia standing on a footstool, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.

After that, Nia and Hagrid bought her school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts. They visited the Apothecary, and asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients.

"Just yer wand left," said Hagrid examining the list. "A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Nia felt herself go red. "You don't have to-"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. I'll get yer an owl. They're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'." Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium and Nia now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Nia jumped. An old man was standing before her, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," she said awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Eugenia Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to her and Nia wished he would blink. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. I say your father favored it, but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, Miss Potter." Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and NIa were almost nose to nose. "And that's where..." he touched the lightning scar on her forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..." He shook his head and then, to Nia's relief, spotted Hagrid. "Hagrid! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes."

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled. Well, now, Miss Potter. Let me see."

He measure Nia from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow. Then he was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes and making her try out different wands. Nia tried them. And tried them some more. She had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for, but he seemed rather cheerful.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now... yes, why not? Unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Nia took the wand and felt a sudden warmth in her fingers. She raised the wand and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... "

"Sorry," said Nia, now interested, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed her with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather; just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Nia swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Potter... After all, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible, yes, but great."

Nia shivered. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand and left that place. She and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Hagrid helped her on to the train that would take her back to the Dursleys, then handed her an envelope.

"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts. First o' September, King's Cross. it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me... See yeh soon, little Nia."

The train pulled out of the station. Nia wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; she rose in her seat and pressed her nose against the window, but she blinked and Hagrid was gone.

She was suddenly scared. She couldn't explain. She had had the best birthday ever, however... Everyone seemed to think she was somehow special. All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... But Nia didn't know anything about magic at all. How could they expect great things from her? She was famous and couldn't even remember what she was famous for.

On her last month with the Dursleys, Daisy wouldn't even stay in the same room as her, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't shut her in her cupboard or forced her to do anything, or shouted at her, in fact, they didn't speak to her at all. Nia kept to her room with her new owl for company. She had decided to call her Hedwig.

On the last day of August, she asked Uncle Vernon to take her to platform nine and three-quarters the next day.

"Barking," said Uncle Vernon, "howling mad, the lot of them. You'll see. You just wait. All right, we'll take you to King's Cross. We're going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn't bother."

Nia woke at five o'clock the next morning. She got up and dressed, and checked her Hogwarts list to make sure she had everything she needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, her huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys' car, Aunt Petunia had talked Daisy into sitting next to Nia, and they had set off.

They reached King's Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Nia's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for her in a strangely kind gesture, until he stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

"Well, there you are, girl. Platform nine, platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. And then he left without another word.


	5. chapter four

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part V - _hogwarts, a history_

* * *

Nia watched the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Nia's mouth went dry. _What on earth was she going to do?_ Hagrid must have forgotten to tell her something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley.

At that moment a group of people passed just behind her and Nia caught a few words of what they were saying.

"...packed with Muggles, of course..."

Nia swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to three boys and a girl, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk and they had an owl. Nia pushed her cart after them. They stopped and so did she, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

"All right, Percy, you go first," said the mother.

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Nia watched the boy vanish between the two platforms.

"Fred, you next."

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," said the boy. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," said the boy, and off he went, calling his twin after him, and a second later, they both disappeared.

How were they doing that?

It was the girl's turn now.

"Excuse me," Nia butt in.

"Hello, little one," smiled the woman. "First time at Hogwarts? Ronnie's new, too." She pointed at the tomboy girl, with freckles and a long nose. "If you're not sure how to get onto the platform, it's quite simple. Don't worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ronnie."

Nia pushed her trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid. She started to walk toward it. Leaning forward on her cart, she broke into a heavy run. The barrier was coming nearer and nearer. She wouldn't be able to stop, she was a foot away, she closed her eyes ready for the crash...

It didn't come. She opened her eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Nia pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She found an empty compartment near the end of the train. She put Hedwig inside first and then tried to lift up her trunk over the steps but could hardly raise one end.

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins.

"Yes, please," she panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Nia's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. Nia thanked them pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at her lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you...?"

"She is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?"

"What?" said Nia.

"Eugenia Potter," chorused the twins.

Nia felt her cheeks burn. "Oh, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at her. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom." With a last look at Nia, the twins hopped off the train.

Nia sat down next to the window where, half hidden, she could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying.

"Percy, dear, have a good term," the mother was saying, "send me an owl when you get there." She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins. "Now, you two, this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've... you've blown up a toilet or..."

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom."

"It's not funny. And look after Ronnie."

"Don't worry, Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train? You know that little girl who was near us in the station? Know who she is?"

"Who?"

"Eugenia Potter!"

"Is she really, Fred? Poor dear. No wonder she was alone." A whistle sounded. "Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three children clambered onto the train.

The train began to move. Nia watched the mother waving until the train rounded the corner and she disappeared.

Nia felt a great leap of excitement. She didn't know what she was going to but it had to be better than what she was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the redheaded girl came in. "Anyone sitting there?" she asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Nia shook her head and the girl sat down. She glanced at Nia and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending she hadn't looked.

"Hey, Ronnie." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train. Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ronnie.

"It's Eugenia, right?" said the other twin, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Veronica, our sister. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Nia and Ronnie.

The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Eugenia Potter?" Ronnie blurted out. Nia nodded. "Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes. And have you really got... you know..." She pointed at Nia's forehead and Nia pulled back her bangs to show the lightning scar. "Wow!"

Ronnie then bombed Nia with questions and Nia, for the first time ever, felt free to do the same. She wanted to know everything about the family of wizards.

"Bill and Charlie have already left school. Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat..." Ronnie reached inside her jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat. "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. My parents couldn't afford... uh, I mean..." Her ears went pink.

Nia didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, she'd never had any money in her life until a month ago, and she told Ronnie so, all about having to wear Daisy's old clothes. This seemed to cheer her up.

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Nia, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to her feet, ready to buy as many sweets as she could carry. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ronnie, eating their way through all pasties, cakes, and candies; Nia had never had anything to share with someone before.

Ronnie's eyes suddenly fell on the rat still snoozing on her lap. "He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." She pulled out a very battered-looking wand.

The compartment door slid open revealing a boy, prim and proper, already wearing his new Hogwarts robes. "Has anyone seen a toad? Nadine's lost one." He had brown hair, thin lips, a big nose and eyes that searched the room as if he was trying to absorb every detail of it.

"No," said Ronnie, sounding uninterested.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" he asked looking at the wand in her hand. "Let's see it, then."

Ronnie looked taken aback. She cleared her throat. "Uh... Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." She waved her wand, but nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the boy. "I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was such a surprise when I got my letter. This is the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough... I'm Hugo Granger. Who are you?"

Nia looked at Ronnie, and was relieved to see by her stunned face that she hadn't learned all the course books by heart either. The two of them introduced themselves. Hugo threw some more sharp comments at them, and then finished saying: "Anyway, I'd better go and look for Nadine's toad. And you two had better change. I expect we'll be there soon." And he left.

Ronnie threw her wand back into her trunk. "Stupid spell. George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

Nia peered out of the window. It was getting dark. The train did seem to be slowing down. She and Ronnie took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Nia's stomach lurched with nerves and Ronnie looked pale under her freckles. The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Nia heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Nia?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me. Any more firs' years?"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. Nobody spoke much. Just around the bend, they got their first sight of Hogwarts. There was a loud _"Oooooh!"_

They got into a fleet of little boats that moved off all at once, gliding across the lake. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. They reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch, with a stern face, in emerald-green robes stood there. Hagrid introduced her as Professor Minerva McGonagall. She pulled the door wide and they followed her across the flagged stone floor.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." And she left the chamber.

Nia swallowed. Just then, a pale, silver haired girl approached, her cold eyes revealing a certain amount of interest. "Is it true?" she said. "They're saying all down the train that Eugenia Potter's come to Hogwarts. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes."

Some of the other students started to whisper.

"My name's Daenerys Malfoy."

Ronnie gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigget. Malfoy looked at her.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley." She turned back to Nia. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." She held out her hand to shake Nia's, but Nia didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," she said coolly.

Daenerys Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in her pale cheeks. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," she said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Ronnie's face was as red as her hair. Nia thought she was going to jump the other girl when something else happened that distracted them all: about twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall, gliding across the room talking to one another, complaining about someone named Peeves.

Then Professor McGonagall returned to call them for the Sorting Ceremony.

The Great Hall was splendid. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up there. Nia looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. She heard Hugo whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat, patched and frayed and extremely dirty. The hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat began to sing.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment and started calling out names. Hannah Abbott became a Hufflepuff. Susan Bones did too. Terry Boot became a Ravenclaw. Mandy Brocklehurst did too, but Lavender Brown became the first new Gryffindor. Millicent Bulstrode became a Slytherin. Justin Finch-Fletchley became a Hufflepuff. Seamus Finnigan was declared a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hugo!"

Hugo almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on his head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ronnie made a face.

When Nadine Longbottom, the girl who had lost her toad, was called, she fell over on her way to the stool, and still ended up a Gryffindor.

Daenerys was called next. The hat had barely touched her head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

There weren't many people left now. Moon... Nott... Parkinson... Then a pair of twin girls, Patil and Patil... Then Perks... Sally-Anne... and then, at last...

"Potter, Eugenia!"

As Nia stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. The last thing she saw before the hat dropped over her eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at her.

 _Hmm... Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?_

Nia gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _Not Slytherin, not Slytherin._

 _Not Slytherin, eh?_ , said the small voice. _Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that, no? Well, if you're sure... better be GRYFFINDOR!_

Nia took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. She was so relieved she hardly noticed that she was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook her hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, _"We got Potter! We got Potter!"_ She sat down opposite a ghost wearing a ruff, who patted her arm.

Dean Thomas, a black boy, joined Nia at the Gryffindor table. Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ronnie's turn. She was pale green by now. Nia crossed her fingers under the table and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Nia clapped loudly with the rest as Ronnie collapsed into the chair next to her.

Blaise Zabini, was made a Slytherin, and then Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Atlas Dumbledore got to her feet. She wasn't a big woman, but Nia could almost see the power radiating from her. She was beaming at the students, her arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased her more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," she said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

She sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Nia didn't know whether to laugh or not. Then the dishes in front of her were piled with food.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, "I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it."

"I know who you are!" said Ronnie suddenly. "You're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy..."

While they discussed why the ghost was called _nearly_ headless, Nia looked up at the High Table. At the end nearest her sat Hagrid. In the center, in a large gold chair, sat Atlas Dumbledore. She spotted Professor Quirrell, too, looking very peculiar in a large purple turban. Professor McGonagall was talking to another teacher. And there was another one... a teacher with greasy black hair and a hooked nose.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher's eyes focused on hers, and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Nia's forehead. The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Nia had gotten from the teacher's look... a feeling that he didn't like her at all.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore got to her feet again. The hall fell silent. "Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." Her twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Nia turned to Percy. "She's not serious?"

"Must be," said Percy, frowning. "It's odd, because she usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere."

"And now, bedtime," said Professor Dumbledore. "Off you trot!"


	6. chapter five

Hey, guys! I want to thank everyone who took the time to review this fanfic and/or message me... You guys have been _really_ nice to me. It brings tears to my eyes. I'd like to remind everyone that this is _just_ for fun, no harm intended, and **everything belongs to Queen Rowling.**

Some of you have asked me about the pairings and some have wondered about the whereabouts of one Ginny Weasley... Ginny is not a part of this story. I could get into the why's of the matter, but I think it's not necessary. I've replaced her character with others. I know it's a hard thing to do, since most everyone likes Ginny, but it was one of the ways I found to make the story a little fresh, a little new. Ginny, of course, will be missed, I know it.

Which leads me to the romantic part of the fanfic. There will be romance. There will be some you recognize and some you don't. I'll bring in Krum and Lavender (although in slightly different ways), and I have strong ideas about some romantic experiences Nia will have. You might have guessed that as they grow up, the stories will change more and more because I'll want to add this romantic side of things. Anyway, it's a surprise, okay?

So thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you seven time and more and enjoy it, yeah?

* * *

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part VI - _the flying lesson_

* * *

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy up the marble staircase. People in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, and twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries until they came to a sudden halt. At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

 _"Caput Draconis,_ " said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.

They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs. Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pajamas and fell into bed.

"Never ate so much in my life," Ronnie muttered in the dark. Nia didn't even answer, falling asleep almost at once.

The next day, everywhere she went, whispers followed Nia. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at her, or doubled back to pass her in the corridors again, staring.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the ginger."

"Did you see her face?"

"Did you see her scar?"

Nia tried to ignore them as she concentrated on finding her way to classes. And then there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Nia quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

Professor McGonagall wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again.

They were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hugo had made any difference to his match; Professor McGonagall proudly showed the class how it had gone all silver and pointy.

Professor Quirrell's lessons, however, turned out to be a bit of a joke. Not to mention his classroom which smelled strongly of garlic.

Friday, at breakfast, Nia received her very first letter. She tore it open at once. It was an invitation from Hagrid for tea in the afternoon. Nia answered quickly that she would love to and then followed Ronnie to their first Potions lesson, which took place down in one of the dungeons.

Professor Snape had black eyes, cold and empty, that made Nia think of dark tunnels. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stop death, if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Silence followed this little speech. Nia and Ronnie exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hugo was on the edge of his seat and looked desperate to start proving that he wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Caught out of guard, Nia glanced at Ronnie, who looked as stumped as she was. Hugo hand had shot into the air.

"I don't know, sir," she said softly.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" Hugo stretched his hand as high into the air as it would go without him leaving his seat, but the teacher ignored him. Nia repeated her answer. "Fame clearly isn't everything. What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hugo stood up, his hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

Nia forced herself to hold Snape's gaze. "I don't know, sir," she said quietly. "But I think Hugo does, so why don't you try him?"

A few people laughed and Snape was not pleased. "Sit down," he snapped at Hugo. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Nia's mind was racing and her spirits were low.

"Cheer up," said Ronnie, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Nobody cares. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"

At five to three they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. When Nia knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang, back." Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open. "Hang on. Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There was only one room inside, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

Hagrid let go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ronnie and started licking her ears. Nia took the time to introduce the giant and the redhead.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ronnie's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

Next thing, they told Hagrid about their first-lessons. Fang rested his head on Nia's knee and drooled all over her robes, as she talked about Snape. Hagrid, like Ronnie, told her not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish! Why should he?"

Yet Nia couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet her eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" he asked Ronnie. "I liked him a lot... great with animals."

Nia wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ronnie told him all about Charlie's work with dragons, Nia picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

 _Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

"Hagrid!" said Nia, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet her eyes this time.

Nia read the story again. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day._ Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Nia and Ronnie walked back to the castle for dinner, Nia thought that none of the lessons she'd had so far had given her as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell her?

* * *

Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. Nia had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else, but the idea of making a fool of herself in front of Daenerys Malfoy made her sick.

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ronnie reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good she is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Daenerys certainly did talk about flying a lot, but she wasn't the only one. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly, and everyone seemed to have some experience with flying. Except Nadine, who'd never been on a broomstick in her life, because her grandmother had never let her near one. Privately, Nia felt she'd had good reason, because Nadine managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hugo Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Nadine was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book; although he had tried it. At breakfast on Thursday he bored them all stupid with flying tips he'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages.

A barn owl brought Nadine a small package from her grandmother. She opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" Hugo explained. "It tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red... oh..." The Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet.

Nadine was trying to remember what she'd forgotten when Daenerys, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of her hand. But before she could say something mean, Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Daenerys quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," she said, and she sloped away with her friends.

At three-thirty that afternoon, everyone hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. There were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Nia glanced down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Nia's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hugo Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Nadine's hadn't moved at all.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Nia and Ronnie were delighted when she told Malfoy she'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle... three... two..." But Nadine, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips. "Come back, girl!" she shouted, but Nadine was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle.

Nia saw her scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw her gasp, slip sideways off the broom and... _WHAM!_... a thud and a nasty crack and Nadine lay facedown on the grass in a heap. Madam Hooch was bending over her.

"Broken wrist," Nia heard her mutter. "Come on, girl... it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this student to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say _'Quidditch._ ' Come on, dear."

Nadine, her face tear-streaked, clutching her wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around her. No sooner were they out of earshot than Daenerys burst into laughter. "Did you see her face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Look!" Daenerys darted forward and snatched something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent her." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as she held it up.

"Give it to me, Malfoy," said Nia quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Daenerys smiled nastily. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find... how about... up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Nia yelled, but Daenerys had leapt onto her broomstick and taken off. She hadn't been lying, she could fly well. "Come and get it, Potter!"

Nia grabbed her broom.

"No!" shouted Hugo. "Madam Hooch told us not to move... you'll get us all into trouble."

Nia ignored him. She mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up she soared; air rushed through her hair, and her robes whipped out behind her, and in a rush of fierce joy she realized she'd found something she could do without being taught. This was easy. This was wonderful.

She pulled her broomstick up a little to take it even higher, and heard screams and gasps back on the ground. She turned her broomstick sharply to face Daenerys in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Nia called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Daenerys, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Nia knew, somehow, what to do. She leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Daenerys only just got out of the way in time; Nia made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.

Daenerys didn't seem to like her chances. "Catch it if you can, then!" she shouted, and she threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground. Nia saw, as though in slow motion, the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. She leaned forward and pointed her broom handle down. Next second she was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball. Wind whistled in her ears, mingled with the screams of people watching. She stretched out her hand and a foot from the ground she caught it, just in time to pull her broom straight, and she toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in her fist.

"EUGENIA POTTER!" Professor McGonagall was running toward them. "Never... in all my time at Hogwarts..." Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "...how dare you... might have broken your neck... Follow me, now."

Nia caught sight of Daenerys' triumphant face as she left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle. Nia wanted to say something to defend herself, but there seemed to be something wrong with her voice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at her; Nia had to jog to keep up.

Professor McGonagall wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Nia trotting miserably behind her. Nia's stomach twisted as she imagined what was to come. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom, opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

 _Wood?_ thought Nia, bewildered; _was Wood a cane she was going to use on her?_

But Wood turned out to be a person, a burly fifth-year boy who came out of Flitwick's class looking confused.

"Potter, this is Oliver Wood," McGonagall said. "Wood... I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's expression changed from puzzlement to delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," she said crisply. "The girl's a natural. I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?" Nia nodded silently. "She caught that thing in her hand after a fifty-foot dive. Didn't even scratch herself. Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?" he asked excitedly.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall explained.

"She's just the build for a Seeker, too," said Wood, now walking around Nia and staring at her. "Light... speedy... we'll have to get her a decent broom, Professor. A Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks..." Professor McGonagall peered sternly over her glasses at Nia. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."


	7. chapter six

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part VII - _fluffy_

* * *

"You're joking."

It was dinnertime. Nia had just finished telling Ronnie what had happened when she'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall.

"Seeker?" Ronnie said. "But first years never... you must be the youngest house player in about a..."

"Century," said Nia. "Wood told me."

Ronnie was so amazed, so impressed, she just sat and gaped at Nia.

"I start training next week," said Nia. "Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George Weasley now came into the hall, spotted her, and hurried over. "Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too. Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Eugenia, Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Daenerys Malfoy, flanked by constant companions, Victoria Crabbe and Giselle Goyle. "Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"Oh, you're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Nia coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Daenerys. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only. No contact. What's the matter, Potter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before?"

"Of course she has," said Ronnie, wheeling around. "I'm her second, who's yours?"

Daenerys looked at Victoria and Giselle, sizing them up. "Victoria," she said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When she had gone, Ronnie and Nia looked at each other. "What did you mean you're my second?" said Nia.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ronnie casually. "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. I bet she expected you to refuse, anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch her jubblies," Ronnie suggested.

"Excuse me." They both looked up. It was Hugo.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ronnie.

Hugo ignored her and spoke to Nia. "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying..."

"Bet you could," Ronnie muttered.

"...and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Ronnie.

Nia just looked from one to the other like she was watching a tenis match.

* * *

All the same, it wasn't what you'd call the perfect end to the day. Nia lay awake listening to Lavender and Parvati falling asleep (Nadine wasn't back from the hospital wing). Ronnie had spent all evening giving her advice such as "If she tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I can't remember how to block them." There was a very good chance they were going to get caught by Filch or Mrs. Norris, and Nia felt she was pushing her luck, breaking another school rule today. On the other hand, Daenerys' sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness and Nia desperately wanted to beat her.

"Half-past eleven," Ronnie muttered at last, "we'd better go."

They crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Eugenia."

A lamp flickered on. Again, it was Hugo, wearing a frown.

"You!" said Ronnie furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," he snapped, "Percy. He's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Nia couldn't believe anyone could be so interfering. "Let's just go," she said to Ronnie. She pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hugo followed them out, hissing like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow." He turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found himself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and he was locked out of Gryffindor tower. "Now what am I going to do?"

"That's your problem," said Ronnie.

"I'm coming with you then," Hugo decided.

"You are not."

"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"Oh, you've got some nerve," said Ronnie loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Nia sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling. Nadine was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer. "Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Nadine. The password's _'Pig snout'_ but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" said Nia.

"Fine," said Nadine, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good. Well, look, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later..."

"Don't leave me!" said Nadine, scrambling to her feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ronnie glared furiously at Hugo and Nadine. "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hugo opened his mouth, perhaps to tell her exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Nia hissed at him to be quiet and beckoned them all forward. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room. Daenerys and Victoria weren't there yet. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room.

The minutes crept by.

"She's late, maybe she's chickened out," Ronnie whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Nia had only just raised her wand when they heard someone speak... and it wasn't Daenerys. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner." It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris.

Horror-struck, Nia waved madly at the other three to follow her as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. "They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Nia mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Nadine suddenly tripped, grabbed Ronnie around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle. "RUN!" Nia yelled, and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following.

They had no idea where they were or where they were going, yet they ran, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door, and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ronnie moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!" They could hear Filch coming.

"Move over," Hugo snarled. He grabbed Nia's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, _"Alohomora!"_ The lock clicked and the door swung open. They piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hugo said to Nia. "You realize that, don't you? She was never going to meet you. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Nia thought he was probably right, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Which way did they go?" Filch was saying to Mrs Norris.

"He thinks this door is locked," Nia whispered. "I think we'll be okay. Stop it, Nadine!" Nadine had been tugging on the sleeve of Nia bathrobe for the last minute. "What?" Nia turned around, and saw, quite clearly, _what_.

For a moment, she was sure she'd walked into a nightmare. They weren't in a room, they were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Nia knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that.

Nia groped for the doorknob; between Filch and death, she'd take Filch. They fell backward and Nia slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere.

They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor. Thank goodness, she was back already. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ronnie.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hugo snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on."

"The floor?" Nia suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads. In case you didn't noticed, it had three!"

"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." Hugo stood up, glaring at them. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed, or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ronnie stared after him. "You'd think we dragged him along, wouldn't you."

But Hugo had given Nia something to think about as she climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something... What had Hagrid said? _Gringotts was the safest place in the world for something you wanted to hide... except perhaps Hogwarts._

It looked as though Nia had found out where the grubby little package from vault seven hundred and thirteen was.

* * *

Daenerys couldn't believe her eyes when she saw that Nia and Ronnie were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Nia filled Ronnie in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable or really dangerous," said Ronnie.

"Or both," said Nia.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues. All they really wanted now was a way of getting back at Daenerys, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Nia was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of her. It came with a letter she ripped open first, which was lucky, because it said:

 _DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE._

 _It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session._

 _Professor McGonagall._

Nia had difficulty hiding her glee and even more difficulty paying attention to class when all she really wanted to do was fly that Nimbus.

As seven o'clock drew nearer, she left the castle and set off in the dusk toward the Quidditch field. She'd never been inside the stadium before. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands around the field so that the spectators were high enough to see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles with hoops on the end. Too eager to fly to wait for Wood, she mounted her broomstick and kicked off from the ground. What a feeling... she swooped in and out of the goal posts and then sped up and down the field. The Nimbus Two Thousand turned wherever she wanted at her lightest touch.

"Hey, Potter, come down!" Oliver Wood had arrived. He was carrying a large wooden crate under his arm. Nia landed next to him. "Very nice," said Wood, his eyes glinting. "I see what McGonagall meant... you really are a natural. I'm just going to teach you the rules this evening, then you'll be joining team practice three times a week."

He opened the crate and started explaining the game, and showed her the four different-sized balls.

"But you only have to worry about this one." Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball. It was about the size of a large walnut. It was bright gold and had little fluttering silver wings. "This is the Golden Snitch, and it's the most important ball of the lot. It's very hard to catch because it's so fast and difficult to see. It's the Seeker's job to catch it. You've got to get it before the other team's Seeker, because whichever Seeker catches the Snitch wins his team an extra hundred and fifty points. A game of Quidditch only ends when the Snitch is caught. Any questions?"

Nia shook her head. She understood what she had to do all right, it was doing it that was going to be the problem.

* * *

Perhaps it was because she was now so busy, what with Quidditch practice three evenings a week on top of all her homework, but Nia could hardly believe it when she realized that she'd already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

That morning, Professor Flitwick announced that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly. He put the class into pairs to practice. Nia's partner was Seamus Finnigan. Ronnie, however, was to be working with Hugo. It was hard to tell whether he or she was angrier about this. Nadine hadn't come to class.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too."

Nia and Seamus swished and flicked, but the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it. Ronnie, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

 _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ she shouted, waving her long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Hugo snap. "It's Levi-O-sa, not Levi-o-SAR."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ronnie snarled.

Hugo rolled up his sleeves, flicked his wand, and said, _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Mr Granger's done it!"

Ronnie was in a very bad mood by the end of the class.

At night, they had the Halloween feast. Nia and Ronnie overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender that Nadine was alone in the girls' bathroom since the day had started because some girls from Slytherin had played a Halloween prank on her.

Nia and Ronnie were considering going there to talk to her when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll! In the dungeons... Troll! Thought you ought to know." He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.


	8. chapter seven

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part VIII - _quidditch_

* * *

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," she rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Nia asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ronnie.

"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke," suggested Hugo from behind them.

As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Nia suddenly stopped. "Nadine."

"What about her?"

"She doesn't know about the troll," Hugo finished for her.

Ronnie bit her lip. "Oh, alright, you two," she snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. Professor Snape crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Nia said, but Ronnie held up her hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Nia sniffed and a foul stench reached her nostrils. And then they heard it: a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Hugo pointed; at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight.

Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, gray, its body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top. It had short legs thick as tree trunks. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room.

"That's the girls' bathroom!" Hugo gasped.

It was the last thing they wanted to do, but wheeling around, they sprinted to the door and Nia pulled it open, and they ran inside. Nadine was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

Nia seizing a tap, threw it as hard as she could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from Nadine. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Nia. It hesitated, then made for her instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ronnie from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ronnie instead, giving Nia time to run around it.

Hugo went to Nadine and tried to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ronnie, who was nearest and had no way to escape.

Nia then, took a great running jump and managed to fasten her arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel her hanging there, but he noticed when she stuck her wand up its nose. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, and Nia jumped as far as she could.

Nadine had sunk to the floor in fright and Hugo was still trying to make her stand. Ronnie pulled out her own wand, not knowing what to do.

"Swish and flick!" Hugo said to her.

Ronnie nodded and cried the spell that never worked. _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Nia got to her feet. She was shaking and out of breath. Ronnie was standing there with her wand still raised, staring at what she had done.

"Is it... dead?" asked Hugo.

"I don't think so," said Nia, "I think it's just been knocked out." She bent down and pulled her wand out of the troll's nose. "Urgh... troll boogers." She wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Nia had never seen Professor McGonagall look so angry. Her lips were white.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" she said with cold fury in her voice. Nia looked at Ronnie, who was still standing with her wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Nia a swift, piercing look. Nia looked at the floor, wishing Ronnie would put her wand down.

Then Hugo spoke. "Please, Professor McGonagall. They were looking for me."

"Mr. Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I... I was worried about Nadine and I thought I could deal with it on my own... you know, because I've read all about them."

Ronnie dropped her wand. Nia was speechless. Hugo must'd known he was the only one who wouldn't be expelled for that and decided to take the blame for it all.

"If they hadn't followed me, I'd be dead now."

"Well... in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Mr. Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this. I'm very disappointed in you. Miss Longbottom, you're lucky to have such good friends. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses." Professor McGonagall turned to Nia and Ronnie. "Not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up.

* * *

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold and the Quidditch season began. On Saturday, Nia would be playing in her first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Hugo lent Nia Quidditch Through the Ages, which turned out to be a very interesting read, and even helped her with her homework. He had become way nicer after the mountain troll, and Nadine was a bit more relaxed.

The day before the Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, when Snape crossed the yard. Nia noticed he was limping.

"You know what this means?" she whispered to the others. "I think he tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween. That's where he was going when we saw him... he's after whatever it's guarding! I'm guessing he let the troll in as a diversion. But, he got himself bitten."

"But why would anyone go near that dog?" Hugo asked.

"The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret."

"So you're saying..."

"That's what the dog's guarding. That's what Snape wants."

Hugo narrowed his eyes. "No... he wouldn't," he said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hugo, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ronnie. "I'm with Nia. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Nia went to bed with her head buzzing with the same question. The next morning dawned very bright and cold. Nia felt terrible. By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. Ronnie and Hugo joined Nadine, Seamus, and Dean in the top row.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Nia and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes. Wood cleared his throat for silence. "Okay, guys," he said.

"And girls," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And girls," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Nia, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." He glared at them all as if to say or else... "Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you."

Nia followed Fred and George out of the locker room and, hoping her knees weren't going to give way, walked onto the field to loud cheers. Madam Hooch was refereeing. "Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said, once they were all gathered around her. "Mount your brooms, please."

Nia clambered onto her Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor... what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too..."

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor, just telling it how it is." Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. "And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve... back to Johnson and... no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes... Flint flying like an eagle up there... he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle... that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and... _OUCH!_ That must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger. Quaffle taken by the Slytherins. That's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger... sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which from here... nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes... she's really flying... dodges a speeding Bludger... the goal posts are ahead... come on, now, Angelina! Keeper Bletchley dives, misses, GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ronnie and Hugo squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ronnie.

Way up above them, Nia was gliding over the game, squinting about for some sign of the Snitch. Once a Bludger decided to come pelting her way, more like a cannonball than anything, but Nia dodged it and Fred Weasley came chasing after it.

"All right there, Nia?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the..."

It was as Nia dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past her head, that it happened. Her broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, she thought she was going to fall. She gripped the broom tightly with both her hands and knees. She'd never felt anything like that.

It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck her off. Nia tried to turn back toward the Gryffindor goal-posts, when she realized that her broom was completely out of control. She couldn't turn it. She couldn't direct it at all. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated her.

"Dunno what Nia's doing," Hagrid mumbled. "If I didn' know better, I'd say she'd lost control of her broom..."

Suddenly, people were pointing up at her all over the stands. Her broom had started to roll over and over, with her only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Her broom had given a wild jerk and Nia swung off it. She was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

Hugo seized Hagrid's binoculars and started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ronnie, gray-faced.

"I knew it," he gasped, "Snape... look."

Ronnie grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Nia and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something... jinxing the broom," said Hugo.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ronnie could say another word, Hugo had disappeared. Nia's broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for her to hang on much longer. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

Hugo had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; he didn't even stop to say sorry as he knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, he crouched down, pulled out his wand, and whispered a spell. Bright blue flames shot from his wand onto the hem of Snape's robes. It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire.

Up in the air, Nia was suddenly able to clamber back on to her broom.

"Nadine, you can look!" Ronnie said. Nadine had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Nia was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw her clap her hand to her mouth as though she was about to be sick. She hit the field on all fours... coughed... and something gold fell into her hand.

"Potter got the Snitch!" Lee Jordan shouted and the game ended in complete confusion.

"She didn't catch it, she nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference. Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results: Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.

Later, Nia was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Ronnie and Hugo.

"It was Snape," Ronnie was explaining, "Hugo and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. "I found out something about him," Nia told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?" he said.

 _"Fluffy?"_

"Yeah... he's mine... bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Nia eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a curse when I see one. I've read all about them. You have to keep eye contact. And Snape wasn't blinking," said Hugo.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "Listen to me, all three of yeh... yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Nicolas Flamel?" Nia repeated.

Hagrid looked furious with himself. "I shouldn't have said that. I should not have said that."


	9. chapter eight

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part IX - _the alchemist_

* * *

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. No one could wait for the holidays to start.

"I do feel so sorry," said Daenerys, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home." She was looking over at Nia as she spoke. Victoria and Giselle chuckled.

Nia ignored them. It was true she wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas, but Nia didn't feel sorry for herself at all; this would probably be the best Christmas she'd ever had. Ronnie and her brothers were staying, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie.

After class, they found Hagrid delivering a pine tree to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations. The hall looked spectacular.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked them.

"Just one," said Hugo. "And that reminds me... Nia, Ronnie, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Nia told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You what?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here... I've told yeh... drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Hugo, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip. Hugo took out a list of subjects and titles he had decided to search while Ronnie strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Nia wandered over to the Restricted Section. She had been wondering for a while if Flamel wasn't somewhere in there.

An hour later, they went off to lunch empty-handed.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hugo. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ronnie. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," he answered.

Once the holidays had started, Ronnie and Nia were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves. Ronnie started teaching Nia wizard chess, something Ronnie happened to be very good at.

On Christmas morning, Nia woke early and the first thing she saw was a small pile of packages at the foot of her bed.

"I've got some presents?" she said more to herself than anything else.

"What did you expect, turnips?" said Ronnie, turning to her own pile, which was a lot bigger than Nia's.

Nia picked up the top parcel.

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ronnie, turning a bit pink. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and... oh, no," she groaned, "she's made you a Weasley sweater. Every year she makes us one."

"That's really nice of her," said Nia. She picked up the last parcel and felt it. It was very light. She unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds.

Ronnie gasped. "I've heard of those," she said in a hushed voice. "If that's what I think it is... they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?" Nia picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ronnie, a look of awe on her face.

There was a note, written in a narrow, loopy writing Nia had never seen before. _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._ There was no signature.

Nia and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room. After eating Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his prefect badge.

It had been Nia's best Christmas day ever. Yet something had been nagging at the back of her mind all day: the invisibility cloak and whoever had sent it. It had been her father's. Nia desperately wanted to try it.

She slipped out of bed and wrapped the cloak around herself. Looking down at her legs, she saw only moonlight and shadows. Nia felt wide-awake. The whole of Hogwarts was open to her in this cloak. She could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filch would never know.

Nia crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the common room, and climbed through the portrait hole. She walked quickly down the corridor, heading to the library. There, she lit a lamp to see her way along the rows of books. The Restricted Section was right at the back of the library.

Setting the lamp down carefully on the floor, Nia looked along the bottom shelf for an interesting looking book. A large black and silver volume caught her eye. She pulled it out and let it fall open. A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence; the book was screaming! Nia snapped it shut. She stumbled backward and knocked over her lamp, which went out at once. Panicking, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor outside and ran for it. She passed Filch in the doorway.

She came to a sudden halt in front of a tall suit of armor. Perhaps because it was dark, she didn't recognize where she was at all. She backed away as quietly as she could. A door stood ajar to her left. Nia squeezed through it.

The room looked like an unused classroom, but propped against the wall facing her was something that didn't look as if it belonged there: it was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved around the top: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

Nia moved nearer to the mirror. She whirled around. Her heart was pounding. The mirror showed two people. But the room was empty. Breathing very fast, she turned slowly back to the mirror. Reflected behind her, was a woman and a man, both smiling. The woman had dark red hair and her eyes... _her eyes are just like mine,_ Nia thought, edging a little closer to the glass. Bright green, exactly the same shape. The tall, thin, black-haired man had very untidy hair, that stuck up at the back, just as Nia's did.

She was so close to the mirror now that her nose was nearly touching the glass. "Mom?" she whispered. "Dad?" They just looked at her, smiling. Nia stared hungrily back at them, her hands pressed flat against the glass as though she was hoping to fall right through it and reach them. She had a powerful kind of ache inside her, half joy, half terrible sadness.

How long she stood there, she didn't know. The reflections did not fade and she looked and looked until a distant noise brought her back to her senses. She had to find her way back to bed. She tore her eyes away from her mother's face, whispered, "I'll come back," and hurried from the room.

She shook Ronnie off the bed and half-carried, half-dragged her to go see the magic mirror. There they were. Her mother and father beamed at the sight of her.

"See?" Nia whispered.

"I can't see anything," Ronnie said.

"Stand here." Nia stepped aside, but with Ronnie in front of the mirror, she couldn't see her family anymore. Ronnie was staring transfixed at her image.

"Look at me!" she said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?"

"What? No! I'm alone... but I'm different... I look older... and I'm head girl!"

"What?"

"I am... I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to, and I'm holding the house cup and the Quidditch cup. I'm Quidditch captain, too!" Ronnie looked excitedly at Nia. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead."

A sudden noise outside in the corridor made them put the cloak back over them and return to the common room.

* * *

Nia came back the next night and there were her mother and father smiling at her again. She sank down to sit on the floor in front of the mirror and there she stayed for hours.

"Still here, Eugenia?"

Nia felt as though her insides had turned to ice. She looked behind her. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Atlas Dumbledore.

"I... didn't see you, ma'am."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," she said, and Nia was relieved to see that she was smiling. "You, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It... well... it shows me my family..."

"And it showed your friend as head girl."

"How did you know...?"

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Atlas gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Nia shook her head.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Nia thought. "It shows us what we want... whatever we want..."

"Yes and no," said Atlas. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Veronica Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by her brothers, sees herself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. That's why it will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Eugenia, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

* * *

Atlas had convinced Nia not to go looking for the Mirror of Erised again. Hugo, who came back the day before term started, was disappointed that they hadn't found out who Nicolas Flamel was. They were giving up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book.

Quidditch practice had started again and Wood was working the team harder than ever. The Weasleys joked that Wood was becoming a fanatic. During one particularly wet and muddy practice session, Wood gave the team a bit of bad news: "Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!"

"Snape's refereeing?" George spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."

"It's not my fault," said Wood. "We've just got to make sure we play a clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."

The rest of the team hung back to talk to one another as usual at the end of practice, but Nia headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, where she found Ronnie and Hugo playing chess. Chess was the only thing Hugo ever lost at.

"Don't play," said Hugo at once, after Nia told them about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Say you're ill," said Ronnie, eating a chocolate frog.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hugo suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ronnie, checking the card and throwing it on the table. "Ugh, Dumbledore again. I have like four of her."

"I can't," said Nia, reaching for the card. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all and- Oh! Look at this! I've found him! Listen: _'Atlas is particularly famous for her defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and her work on alchemy with her partner, Nicolas Flame_ l'!"

Hugo jumped to his feet. "Stay there!" he said, and he sprinted up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. Nia and Ronnie barely had time to exchange mystified looks before he was dashing back, an enormous old book in his arms. "I never thought to look in here!" he whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"This is light?" said Ronnie.

Hugo glared at her before starting to flick frantically through the pages. At last he found what he was looking for. "Here. Nicolas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!"

"The what?" said Nia and Ronnie.

"Honestly, don't you two read? The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. The only Stone currently in existence belongs to Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist, who last year celebrated his 665th birthday! That's what Fluffy's guarding on the 3rd floor. That's what's under the trapdoor... the Philosopher's Stone!"

* * *

As the Quidditch match drew nearer, Nia became more and more nervous. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. Nia seemed to keep running into Snape wherever she went and, at times, even wondered whether Snape was following her. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to her. Nia sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

She knew, when they wished her good luck outside the locker rooms the next afternoon, that Ronnie and Hugo were wondering whether they'd ever see her alive again. Nia hardly heard a word of Wood's pep talk as she pulled on her Quidditch robes and picked up her Nimbus Two Thousand.

Wood took her aside. "Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. Finish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" said Fred Weasley, peering out of the door. "Even... blimey... Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Nia's heart did a somersault. "Dumbledore?" she said, dashing to the door to make sure. Fred was right. Nia could have laughed out loud with relief. She was safe. There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt her if Dumbledore was watching.

Ronnie and Hugo, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Nadine. "I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ronnie told the others. "Loo... they're off- _Ouch!"_

Someone had poked Ronnie in the back of the head. It was Daenerys. "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." She grinned broadly at Victoria and Giselle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on her broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Daenerys loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money... you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Nadine went bright red but turned in her seat to face Daenerys. "And you've got no heart, Malfoy," she stammered.

Daenerys, Victoria, and Giselle howled with laughter, but Ronnie said, "You tell her, Nadine."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

"I'm warning you, Malfoy," said Ronnie, "one more word..."

"Look!" said Hugo suddenly, "Nia-"

"What? Where?"

Nia had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. She streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Daenerys.

Ronnie snapped. Before Daenerys knew what was happening, Ronnie was on top of her, wrestling her to the ground. Nadine hesitated, then clambered over the back of her seat to help.

Nia sped straight at Snape and Hugo watched, not even noticing the girls rolling around under his seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of slaps that was Nadine, Victoria, and Giselle. Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches... the next second, Nia had pulled out of the dive, her arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in her hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"The game's over! Ronnie! Nia's won! We've won!" said Hugo.

Nia jumped off her broom, a foot from the ground. She couldn't believe it. She'd done it... the game was over; it had barely lasted five minutes. As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, she saw Snape land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped... then Nia felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up into Atlas' smiling face.

"Well done," she said quietly. "Nice to see you haven't been brooding about that mirror... been keeping busy... excellent..."

Snape spat bitterly on the ground.


	10. chapter nine

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part X - _the norwegian ridgeback_

* * *

The teachers piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hugo next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood or practicing wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Nia and Ronnie spent most of their free time in the library with him, trying to get through all their extra work.

"I'll never remember this," Ronnie burst out one afternoon. Nia didn't look up until she heard Ronnie say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ronnie impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Philosopher's St-"

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh? Come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh-"

"See you later, then," said Nia.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hugo thoughtfully.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ronnie, who'd had enough of working. She came back a minute later with a pile of books in her arms and slammed them down on the table. "Dragons! Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons!"

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him, " said Nia.

"But it's against our laws," said Ronnie. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden. And anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Nia.

"Of course there are," said Ronnie. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what's Hagrid up to?" said Hugo.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them.

It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. "So... The Philosopher's Stone. I think it's safe to say yeh know as much as me by now," he said. "Mind yeh, I don' know much. That Stone's here fer a good reason. Was almost stolen outta Gringotts... I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"But something like that must be guarded by more than just a three-headed dog," said Hugo. "I wonder who Dumbledore trusted enough to help her, apart from you."

Hagrid's chest swelled at these last words. "Well, I don' s'pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that... let's see... she borrowed Fluffy from me... then some o' the teachers did enchantments... Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall..." he ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell... an' Dumbledore herself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

"Snape?"

"Yeah... yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

"You're the only one who knows how to get past Fluffy, aren't you, Hagrid?" said Nia anxiously.

"Not a soul knows except me an' Dumbledore," said Hagrid proudly.

"Hagrid, can we have a window open? I'm boiling."

"Can't, Ronnie, sorry," said Hagrid. Nia noticed him glance at the fire.

"Hagrid... what's that?" But she already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

"Ah," said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard, "That's er..."

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" said Ronnie, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hugo.

"Well, I've bin doin' some readin'," said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. "Got this outta the library. It's a bit outta date, o' course, but it's all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, 'cause their mothers breathe on 'em, see, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. An' see here... how ter recognize diff'rent eggs. What I got there's a Norwegian Ridgeback. They're rare, them." He looked very pleased with himself, but Hugo didn't.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," he said. But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he removed the egg from the fire and set it on the table where it began to crack.

Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from it. They all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath. All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!"

"Hagrid," said Hugo, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face... he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains... a kid... she's runnin' back up ter the school."

Nia bolted to the door and looked out. Even at a distance there was no mistaking her. Daenerys had seen the dragon.

* * *

Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo very nervous. They spent most of their free time in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Hagrid," said Nia, "give it two weeks and Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip. "I... I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

"Maybe you won't have to," said Hugo turning to Ronnie. "Charlie," he said. "Your brother, Charlie. In Romania. Studying dragons. We could send Norbert to him. Charlie can take care of him and then put him back in the wild!"

"Brilliant!" said Ronnie. "How about it, Hagrid?"

In the end, Hagrid agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hugo and Nia sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. Ronnie appeared out of nowhere as she pulled off Nia's invisibility cloak. She had been down at the owlery to fetch Charlie's answer. The three of them put their heads together to read the note.

 _Dear Ronnie, how are you? Thanks for the letter. I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie._

They looked at one another. "We've got the invisibility cloak," said Nia. "It shouldn't be too difficult. I think the cloaks big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say good-bye to Norbert if they hadn't been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Nia as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed. "Mommy will never forget you!"

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another. The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again.

They waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness. Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Nia, Ronnie and Hugo the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then shook hands with each other.

At last, Norbert was going... going... gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them.

As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower.

* * *

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they found Daenerys Malfoy looking positively smug.

Professor McGonagall looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the four of them. "I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, fifty points will be taken."

"Fifty?" Nia gasped.

"Each," said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavily through her long, pointed nose. "And to ensure it doesn't happen again, all four of you will receive detention."

Daenerys' smile vanished. "Excuse me, Professor. Perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said... the four of us."

"No, you heard me correctly, Miss Malfoy," said McGonagall. "You see, as honorable as your intentions were when you came to me, you too were out of bed after hours. You will serve detention with your classmates."

Nia, Ronnie and Hugo grinned at her and Daenerys grimaced. But they weren't happy even though Daenerys would be punished too. A hundred and fifty points lost. That put Gryffindor in last place. In one night, they'd ruined any chance Gryffindor had had for the house cup.

At first, Gryffindors passing the giant hourglasses that recorded the house points the next day thought there'd been a mistake. How could they suddenly have a hundred and fifty points fewer than yesterday? And then the story started to spread: Eugenia Potter, the famous Eugenia Potter, had lost them all those points. Nia was suddenly the most hated person in school. Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on her, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup.

Everywhere Nia went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted her. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as she walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks, Potter, we owe you one!"

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks," Ronnie kept saying. "Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

But Nia felt horrible. Even Quidditch had lost its fun. The rest of the team wouldn't speak to her during practice, and if they had to speak about her, they called her _the Seeker_. Hugo and Ronnie were suffering, too. They didn't have as bad a time as Nia, because they weren't as well-known, but nobody would speak to them, either. Hugo had stopped drawing attention to himself in class, keeping his head down and working in silence.

All the studying they had to do kept their minds off their misery. They kept to themselves, working late into the night. Then, about a week before the exams were due to start, notes were delivered to the three of them at the breakfast table.

 _Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall._

So at eleven o'clock that night, they went down to the entrance hall. Filch was already there; and so was Daenerys.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside. "I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes... hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed..."

They marched off across the dark grounds. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Nia could see the lighted windows of Hagrid's hut. Then they heard a distant shout.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Nia's heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn't be so bad. Her relief must have showed in her face, because Filch said, "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again. It's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

At this, Ronnie let out a little moan, and Daenerys stopped dead in her tracks. "The forest?" she repeated. "We can't go in there at night. There's all sorts of things in there; werewolves, I heard."

"There's more than werewolves in those trees, lass. You can be sure of that," said Filch, his voice cracking with glee.

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. "Abou' time," he said.

Daenerys turned to him. "I'm not going in that forest," she said.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yehve got ter pay fer it. Now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks." He pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. "See that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Daenerys, unable to keep the fear out of her voice.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Ronnie, Hugo, you'll come with me. And Nia, you'll go with Malfoy."

Daenerys made a face. "Okay. Then I get Fang!"

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a bloody coward," said Hagrid.

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Ronnie, Hugo, and Hagrid took the left path while Daenerys, Nia, and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves.

They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Nia thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker too. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Nia could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancient oak.

"Look..." she murmured, holding out her arm to stop Daenerys. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead.

Nia had taken one step toward it when a slithering sound made her freeze where she stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered... Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast.


	11. chapter ten

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part XI - _the trapdoor_

* * *

Nia, Daenerys, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.

Daenerys let out a terrible scream and bolted. So did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Nia. Unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward her and Nia couldn't move for fear. Then a pain like she'd never felt before pierced her head; it was as though her scar were on fire. Half blinded, she staggered backward. She heard hooves behind her, galloping, and something jumped clean over her, charging at the figure.

The pain in her head was so bad she fell to her knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When she looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over her. He had white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. "Eugenia Potter," said the centaur, "you must leave. You are known to many creatures here. The forest is not safe at this time. Especially for you."

"But..." Nia blinked. "What was that thing you saved me from?"

"A monstrous creature," he told her. "It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life."

"But who'd be that desperate?" she wondered aloud. "If you're going to be cursed forever, deaths better, isn't it?"

"It is," the centaur agreed, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else... something that will bring you back to full strength and power... something that will mean you can never die. Eugenia Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

"The Philosopher's Stone! But I don't understand who...?"

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Nia's heart. "Do you mean," she croaked, "that was Mal-"

"Nia! Nia, are you all right?" Ronnie and Hugo was running toward them down the path, Hagrid and Daenerys puffing along behind them.

"I'm fine," said Nia, hardly knowing what she was saying.

"Hello there, Firenze," said Hagrid. "I see you've met little Nia."

"Hello, Hagrid," said Firenze before turning back to Nia. "This is where I leave you, Eugenia Potter. You are safe now." He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest, leaving Nia shivering behind him.

* * *

In the dark common room, in a matter of seconds, Ronnie and Hugo were wide-eyed as Nia began to tell them what had happened in the forest. She couldn't sit down. She paced up and down in front of the fire. She was still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Malvina... and Malvina's waiting in the forest... But she's weak. She's living off the unicorns..."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ronnie in a terrified whisper, as if she thought Malvina could hear them.

Nia wasn't listening. "With the Elixir of Life, Malvina will be strong again," she went on feverishly. "She'll... She'll come back."

"Will you stop saying that name!" Ronnie snapped. "And do you think that if she comes back, she'll try to kill you again?"

"I think if she'd had the chance, she might have tried to kill me tonight."

Hugo looked very frightened as well, but he had a word of comfort. "Everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With her around, You-Know-Who won't touch you."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over. When Nia pulled back her sheets, she found her invisibility cloak folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

 _Just in case_.

* * *

In years to come, Nia would never quite remember how she had managed to get through her exams when she half expected Malvina to come bursting through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Nia did the best she could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in her forehead, which had been bothering her ever since her trip into the forest. Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Nia had, or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ronnie and Hugo didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Nia. The idea of Malvina certainly scared them, but they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

After their very last exam, they wandered down to the lake and flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

"You could look more cheerful, Nia, we've got a week before we find out how badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet," Ronnie said.

Nia was rubbing her forehead. "I wish I knew what this means!" she burst out angrily. "My scar keeps hurting... it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hugo suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Nia. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's coming..."

"You need to relax," said Ronnie. "The Stone's safe as long as Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not going to try it again in a hurry. And Hagrid won't let Dumbledore down."

Nia nodded, but she couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was something she'd forgotten to do, something important. She watched an owl flutter toward the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent her letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy... never... Nia suddenly jumped to her feet.

"Where're you going?" said Ronnie sleepily.

Nia had turned white. "We've got to go and see Hagrid, now."

"Why?" asked Hugo.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd," said Nia, scrambling up the grassy slope, "that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it's against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don't you think? Why didn't I see it before?"

"What are you talking about?" said Ronnie, but Nia, sprinting across the grounds toward the forest, didn't answer.

Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up, and he was shelling peas into a large bowl. "Hullo," he said, smiling. "Finished yer exams?"

"Hagrid, I've got to ask you something," said Nia. "You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?"

"Dunno," said Hagrid casually, "he wouldn' take his cloak off." He saw the three of them look stunned and raised his eyebrows. "It's not that unusual, yeh get a lot o' funny folk in the Hog's Head... Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn' he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up."

"What did you talk to him about? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?"

"Mighta come up," said Hagrid, frowning as he tried to remember. "Yeah... he asked what I did, an' I told him I was gamekeeper here... He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I took after... so I told him... an' I said what I'd always really wanted was a dragon... an' then... I can' remember too well, 'cause he kept buyin' me drinks... Let's see... yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an' we could play cards fer it if I wanted... but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn' want it ter go ter any old home... So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy..."

"And did he... did he seem interested in Fluffy?" Nia asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Well... yeah... how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy's a piece o' cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus' play him a bit o' music an' he'll go straight off ter sleep-" Hagrid suddenly looked horrified. "I shouldn'ta told yeh that! Forget I said it! Hey... where're yeh goin'?"

Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo didn't speak to each other at all until they came to a halt in the entrance hall.

"We've got to go to Dumbledore," said Nia. "That was no stranger Hagrid met in the village. It was Snape, which means he knows how to get past Fluffy. Where's Dumbledore's office?"

They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction.

"What are you three doing inside?" a voice suddenly asked. It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore," said Hugo, rather bravely.

"Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago," Professor McGonagall said coldly. "She received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once."

"She's gone?" said Nia frantically. "Now?"

"Professor Dumbledore is a very important witch, Miss Potter, she has many demands on her time-"

"But this _is_ important... it's about the Philosopher's Stone."

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn't that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms. "How do you know...?"

"Professor, someone's going to try and steal it."

McGonagall eyed her with a mixture of shock and suspicion. "Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow," she said finally. "I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected." She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine."

But they didn't.

"It's tonight," said Nia, once she was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. "Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out how to get past Fluffy and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way."

The other two stared at her. Nia was pale and her eyes were glittering.

"I'm going out of here tonight and I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"You're mad!" said Ronnie.

"You can't!" said Hugo. "You'll be expelled!"

"Don't you understand?" Nia snapped. "If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Malvina's coming back! Haven't you heard what it was like when she was trying to take over? There won't be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! She'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn't matter anymore, can't you see? D'you think she'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you two say is going to stop me! She killed my parents, remember?"

She glared at them.

"You're right, Nia," said Hugo in a small voice.

"We'll help you," added Ronnie.

After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them. They didn't talk much either. The three of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.

Nia grabbed her invisibility cloak. "We'd better put the cloak on here, and make sure-"

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Nadine appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he'd been making another bid for freedom.

"Nothing, Nadine, nothing," said Nia, hurriedly putting the cloak behind her back.

Nadine stared at their guilty faces. "You're going out again," she said. "You can't go out... you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"You don't understand," said Nia, "this is important."

But Nadine was clearly steeling herself to do something desperate. "I won't let you do it," she said, hurrying to stand in front of the portrait hole. "I'll... I'll fight you!"

"Nadine," Ronnie exploded, "get away from that hole!"

"I don't think you should be breaking any more rules!" she said. "And you were the one who told me to stand up to people!"

"Yes, but not to us," said Ronnie in exasperation.

"Do something," Nia said to Hugo.

He stepped forward. "Nadine," he said, "I'm really, really sorry about this." He raised his wand. _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ he cried, pointing it at Nadine. Her arms snapped to her sides. Her legs sprang together. Her whole body rigid, she swayed where she stood and then fell flat on her back, stiff as a board.

"It's for your own good, you know," said Ronnie stepping over Nadine as they made their way out the common room.

At the foot of the first set of stairs, they spotted Mrs. Norris skulking near the top. As they climbed carefully around her, Mrs. Norris turned her lamplike eyes on them, but didn't do anything. They didn't meet anyone else. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor, and the door was already ajar.

"Well, there you are," Nia said quietly, "Snape's already got past Fluffy." Seeing the open door somehow seemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Underneath the cloak, Nia turned to the other two. "If you want to go back, I won't blame you," she said. "You can take the cloak, I won't need it now."

"Don't be stupid," said Ronnie.

"We're coming," said Hugo.

Nia nodded, thankful, and pushed the door open. As the door creaked, they heard music playing. Fluffy was on the ground, fast asleep. "What's that at its feet?" Hugo whispered.

"Looks like a harp," said Ronnie. "Snape must have put a spell on it."

They slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog's hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. Ronnie gritted her teeth and stepped carefully over the dog's legs. She bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open.

"What can you see?" Nia said anxiously.

"Nothing... just black... there's no way of climbing down, we'll just have to drop. I don't know how deep this thing goes though."

Nia looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom. She lowered herself through the hole until she was hanging on by her fingertips. Then she looked up at Ronnie and said, "If anything happens to me, don't follow." And she let go. Cold, damp air rushed past her as she fell down, down, down and... _FLUMP._ With a funny, muffled sort of thump she landed on something soft. She sat up and felt around, her eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant.

Ronnie followed right away. She landed, sprawled next to Nia. "What's this stuff?"

"Dunno, some sort of plant thing. I suppose it's here to break the fall."

Hugo landed on Nia's other side. "We must be miles under the school," he said.

"Lucky this plant thing's here, really," said Ronnie.

"Lucky!" said Hugo. "Look at you both!" He leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. The plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around his ankles. As for Nia and Ronnie, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. Hugo had managed to free himself before the plant got a firm grip on him. Now he watched as the two girls fought to pull the plant off them. "Stop moving!" he ordered them. "It's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," snarled Ronnie, trying to stop the plant from curling around her neck.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" said Hugo.

"Well, hurry up, I can't breathe!" Nia gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around her chest.

"Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say? It likes the dark and the damp..." Hugo whipped out his wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of blue flames at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two girls felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free.

"Lucky someone pays attention in Herbology," said Ronnie as she joined him by the wall, wiping sweat off her face.

"This way," said Nia, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.


	12. chapter eleven

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part XII - _the man with two faces_

* * *

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Nia was reminded of Gringotts' underground.

"Can you hear something?" Ronnie whispered.

Nia listened. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead.

"Do you think it's a ghost?"

"I don't know... sounds like wings to me."

"There's light ahead... I can see something moving."

They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel-bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door.

"Do you think they'll attack us if we cross the room?" said Ronnie.

"Probably," said Nia. "They don't look very vicious, but... well, there's no other choice... I'll run." She took a deep breath and sprinted across the room. Nothing happened. She reached the door untouched. She pulled the handle, but it was locked.

The other two followed her. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn't budge, not even when Hugo tried his _Alohomora_ charm.

"Now what?" said Ronnie.

"These birds... they can't be here just for decoration," said Hugo. They watched the birds soaring overhead, glittering... _glittering?_ "They're not birds!" he said suddenly. "They're keys! Winged keys... look carefully."

"So that must mean..." Nia looked around the chamber. "...yes! Look! A broomstick! We've got to catch the key to the door!"

"But there are hundreds of them!"

Ronnie examined the lock on the door. "We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one... probably silver, like the handle."

Nia seized the broomstick and kicked off into the air, soaring into the midst of the cloud of keys. She grabbed and snatched, but the bewitched keys darted and dived so quickly it was almost impossible to catch one. After a minute's weaving about through the whirl of rainbow feathers, Nia noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught and stuffed roughly into the keyhole.

Nia streaked after it; it sped toward the wall. Nia leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ronnie and Hugo's cheers echoed around the high chamber. She landed quickly, and ran to the door, the key struggling in her hand. She rammed it into the lock and turned; it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice.

"Ready?" Nia asked the other two, her hand on the door handle. They nodded. She pulled the door open.

The next chamber was so dark they couldn't see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces.

"Now what?" Nia whispered.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Ronnie. "We've got to play our way across the room."

Behind the white pieces they could see another door.

"How?" said Hugo nervously.

"I think," said Ronnie, "we're going to have to be chessmen." She turned to the other two. "This needs thinking about. I suppose we've got to take the place of three of the black pieces..." Nia and Hugo stayed quiet, watching her think. Finally she said, "Nia, you take the place of that bishop, and Hugo, you go next to her instead of that castle."

"What about you?"

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ronnie.

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo took.

"White always plays first in chess," said Ronnie, peering across the board.

A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ronnie started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever she sent them. Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.

"Had to let that happen," said Ronnie, looking shaken. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hugo, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ronnie only just noticed in time that Nia and Hugo were in danger. She herself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.

"Lemme think," she muttered. The white queen turned her blank face toward her. "It's the only way..." Ronnie said softly, "I've got to be taken."

"NO!" Nia and Hugo shouted.

"That's chess!" she snapped. "You've got to make some sacrifices! I take one step forward and she'll take me, that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Nia!"

"But-"

"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"

"Ronnie-"

"Look, Nia, it's you that has to go on. I know it. Not me, not Hugo. You." Ronnie's face was pale but determined. She stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ronnie hard across the head with her stone arm, and she crashed to the floor. The white queen dragged her to one side. She looked as if she'd been knocked out.

Shaking, Nia moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at her feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ronnie, Nia and Hugo charged through the door and up the next passageway.

"What if she's...?"

"She'll be all right," said Nia, trying to convince herself.

They had reached another door. Nia pushed it open. A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making both of them pull their robes up over their noses. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head. They stepped carefully over one of its massive legs and Nia pulled open the next door. There was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn't ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.

"Look!" Hugo seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles. "Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind. Two of us will help you, which ever you would find. One among us seven will let you move ahead. Another will transport the drinker back instead. Two among our number hold only nettle wine. Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line. To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four: First, however slyly the poison tries to hide, you will always find some on nettle wine's left side; second, different are those who stand at either end, but if you would move onward, neither is your friend; third, as you see clearly, all are different size, neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides; fourth, the second left and the second on the right are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight." Hugo let out a great sigh and Nia, amazed, saw that he was smiling. "Brilliant," he said. "This isn't magic. It's logic... a puzzle."

"Can you do this?" Nia asked.

"Give me a minute." He read the paper several times. Then he walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to himself and pointing at them. At last, he said, "Got it. The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire, toward the Stone."

Nia looked at the tiny bottle. "There's only enough there for one of us," she said. They looked at each other. "Can you go back through the purple flames?"

"Yes." Hugo pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line.

"Then... Then get back and get Ronnie. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need her. Ronnie's right. I have to go on."

Hugo's lip trembled, but he nodded. "You're a great witch, Nia," he said. "You really are."

"I'm not as good as you," said Nia awkwardly.

"Me!" said Hugo. "Books! And cleverness! There are more important things. Friendship and bravery. Be careful, Nia." He took a long drink from the round bottle at the end, and shuddered. He turned and walked straight through the purple fire.

Nia took a deep breath and picked up the smallest bottle. She turned to face the black flames. She drained the little bottle in one gulp. It was as though ice was flooding her body. She put the bottle down and walked forward. For a moment she could see nothing but dark fire, then she was on the other side, in the last chamber.

There was already someone there, but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Malvina. It was Quirrell.

"You!" gasped Nia.

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"But I thought... Snape..."

"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

Nia couldn't take it in. "But Snape tried to kill me!"

"No, _I_ tried to kill you. And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter-curse."

"Snape was trying to... save me?"

"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "\Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? And what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."

"You let the troll in," Nia accused.

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls, you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape went straight to the third floor to head me off... Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

It was only then that Nia realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.

"This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but she's in London... I'll be far away by the time she gets back..."

All Nia could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him from concentrating on the mirror.

"So... So Snape already suspected you on Halloween?" she blurted out.

"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He tried to frighten me... as though he could, when I have the Red Lady on my side..." Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my mistress... but where is it?"

Nia had to keep Quirrell from giving his whole attention to the mirror. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."

"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."

"But... But... This Red Lady... Does she tell you what to do?"

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face. "Yes," he said. "She is a great witch. She guides my path."

"You mean she was here in the school with you?" Nia gasped.

"She is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "When I met her... A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lady Malvina showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it... Since then, I have served her faithfully..." Quirrell cursed under his breath. "I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"

Nia's mind was racing. _What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment,_ she thought, _is to find the Stone before Quirrell does._ She tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing.

Quirrell was still talking to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, my lady!"

And to Nia's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. _"Use the girl..."_

Quirrell rounded on Nia. "Potter, come here. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see."

Nia walked toward him. Quirrell moved close behind her. Nia breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. She stepped in front of the mirror and she saw her reflection, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection smiled at her. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket, and as it did so, Nia felt something heavy drop into her real pocket.

"Well?" said Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

Nia screwed up her courage. "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," she invented. "I... I've won the house cup for Gryffindor."

The voice spoke again: _"She lies..."_

"Tell me the truth!" Quirrell shouted. "What did you just see?"

 _"Let me speak to her..."_ the voice ordered.

Nia felt stuck. She couldn't move a muscle. Petrified, she watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell's head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot and Nia would have screamed, but she couldn't make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, a terrible face with glaring red eyes.

 _"Eugenia Potter..."_ it whispered. Nia tried to take a step backward but her legs wouldn't move. _"See what I have become? I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own_. _Now, why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"_

So she knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Nia's legs. She stumbled backward.

 _"Don't be a fool,"_ snarled the face. _"Better save your own life and join me or you'll meet the same end as your parents. They died begging me for mercy..."_

"You liar!" Nia shouted suddenly.

Quirrell was walking backward at her, so that Malvina could still see her. The evil face was now smiling.

 _"How touching,"_ it hissed. _"Yes, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight, but your mother needn't have died. She was trying to protect you. Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."_

"NEVER!" Nia sprang toward the flame door, but Malvina screamed _"SEIZE HER!"_ and the next second, Nia felt Quirrell's hand close on her wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Nia's scar; her head felt as though it was about to split in two; she yelled, struggling with all her might, and to her surprise, Quirrell let go of her. The pain in her head lessened. She looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers; they were blistering before his eyes.

 _"Seize her!"_ shrieked Malvina again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Nia clean off her feet and landing on top of her, both hands around her neck. Nia's scar was almost blinding her with pain, yet she could see Quirrell howling in agony.

"My lady, I cannot hold her... my hands... my hands!" And Quirrell, though pinning Nia to the ground with his knees, let go of her neck and stared, bewildered, at his own palms which looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.

 _"Then kill her, fool, and be done!"_ screeched Malvina.

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Nia, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face. "AAAARGH!" Quirrell rolled off her, his face blistering, too, and then Nia knew: Quirrell couldn't touch her bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain.

Nia jumped to her feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as she could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Nia off; the pain in her head was building, she couldn't see, she could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Malvina's yells, and other voices, maybe in her own head, crying her name... She felt Quirrell's arm wrenched from her grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down, down and down...


	13. epilogue

Act I - **a great deal of courage**

Part XIII - _epilogue_

* * *

Nia blinked and the smiling face of Atlas Dumbledore swam into view above her.

"Good afternoon, Eugenia," she said.

Nia stared. Then she remembered: "Ma'am! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick-"

"Calm yourself, sweet girl, you are a little behind the times," said Atlas. "Quirrell does not have the Stone."

"Then who does? I..."

"Nia, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out."

Nia swallowed and looked around her. She realized she was in the hospital wing. She was lying in a bed with white linen sheets, and next to her was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop.

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," said Atlas, beaming. "What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it."

"How long have I been in here?"

"Three days. Miss Weasley and Mr Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried."

"But... Ma'am, the Stone..."

"I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you. I arrived in time to prevent that, although you were doing very well on your own, I must say."

"You got there? You got Hugo's owl?"

"We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left. I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you."

"It was you."

"I feared I might be too late."

"You nearly were, I couldn't have kept him off the Stone much longer..."

"Not the Stone, child, you... The effort involved nearly killed you. For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed."

"Destroyed?" said Nia blankly. "But your friend... Nicolas Flamel..."

"Oh, you know about Nico?" said Atlas, sounding quite delighted. "You did do the thing properly, didn't you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it's all for the best."

"But that means he'll die, won't he?"

"He has enough Elixir stored to set his affairs in order and then, yes, he will die." Atlas smiled at the look of amazement on Nia's face. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, that's his wife, it really is like going to bed after a very, _very_ long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all... the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

Nia lay there, lost for words. Atlas hummed a little and smiled at the ceiling. "Professor?" said Nia. "I've been thinking... even if the Stone's gone, Mal... I mean, You-Know-Who..."

"Call her Malvina, Nia. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself."

"Yes. Well... Malvina's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't she? I mean, she hasn't gone, has she?"

Atlas stopped a moment to consider her words. "No, Nia, she has not. She is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, she cannot be killed. She left Quirrell to die; she shows just as little mercy to her followers as her enemies. Nevertheless, Nia, while you may only have delayed her return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time... and if she is delayed again, and again, why, she may never return to power."

Nia nodded, but stopped quickly, because it made her head hurt. Then she said, "Ma'am, there are some other things I'd like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about."

"The truth." Atlas sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well... Malvina said that she only killed my mother because she tried to stop her from killing me. But why would she want to kill me in the first place?"

Atlas sighed very deeply this time. "Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Nia. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

And Nia knew it would be no good to argue. "But why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"

"Ah. Your mother died to save you, Nia. If there is one thing Malvina cannot understand, it is love. She didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. No, not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Malvina, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

Atlas became very interested in a bird out on the windowsill, which gave Nia time to dry her eyes on the sheet. When she had found her voice again, Nia said, "And the invisibility cloak... was it you who sent it to me?"

She smiled. "Your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it." Atlas' eyes twinkled. "Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"And there's something else..."

"Fire away."

"Quirrell said Snape..."

"Professor Snape, Eugenia."

"Yes, him. Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Miss Malfoy. And then, your father did something Professor Snape could never forgive."

"What?"

"He saved his life."

"What?"

"Yes..." said Atlas dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt... I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..."

Nia tried to understand this but it made her head pound, so she stopped. "And, ma'am, there's one more thing..."

"Just the one?"

"How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?"

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it, otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes. Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Oh! Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one, and since then I'm afraid I've rather lost my liking for them... but I think I'll be safe with a nice toffee, don't you?" She smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into her mouth. Then she choked and said, "Oh, my! Ear wax!"

* * *

Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict.

"Just five minutes," Nia pleaded.

"Absolutely not."

"You let Professor Dumbledore in..."

"Well, of course, that was the headmistress, quite different. You need rest."

"I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey..."

"Oh, very well," she said. "But five minutes only." And she let Ronnie and Hugo in.

"Nia!" Ronnie hugged her until her bones cracked. "Oh, we were sure you were going to... Dumbledore was so worried..."

"The whole school's talking about it," said Hugo. "What happened?"

It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Nia told them everything. Ronnie and Hugo were a very good audience.

"What happened to you two?" she asked when she was done.

"Well, I got back all right," said Hugo. "I brought Ronnie round, and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met her in the entrance hall. She already knew."

"She's a funny person, Dumbledore," said Ronnie. "I think she knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. Oh, listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course... you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you, but the food'll be good."

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

After a good night's sleep, Nia felt nearly back to normal. "I want to go to the feast," she told Madam Pomfrey. "I can, can't I?"

"Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go," she said stiffly, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "And you have another visitor."

"Oh, good," said Nia. "Who is it?"

Hagrid sidled through the door as she spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Nia, took one look at her, and burst into tears. "It's... all... my... ruddy... fault!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn't know, an' I told him! Yeh could've died! All fer a dragon egg! I'll never drink again! I should be chucked out an' made ter live as a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" said Nia, shocked to see him shaking with grief and remorse. "Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow. Malvina would have found out even if you hadn't told her."

"Yeh could've died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!"

"MALVINA!" Nia bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met her and I'm calling her by her name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, she can't use it. It's all well."

Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh a present. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, she shoulda sacked me instead... anyway, got yeh this..."

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Nia opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at her from every page were her mother and father.

"Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?"

Nia couldn't speak, but Hagrid understood.

* * *

She made her way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. He had been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup.

When Nia walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once. She slipped into a seat between Ronnie and Hugo at the Gryffindor table and tried to ignore the fact that people were standing up to look at her.

Fortunately, Atlas arrived moments later. The babble died away. "Another year gone!" she said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an woman's words before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts. Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. It was a sickening sound.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Atlas. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The room went very still.

"Ahem," said Atlas. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. First, to Miss Veronica Weasley..." Ronnie went purple in the face; she looked like a radish with a bad sunburn, "...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, "My sister, you know! My sister! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!"

At last there was silence again.

"Second, to Mr Hugo Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Hugo's jaw hit the floor. Gryffindors up and down the table were beside themselves.

"Third, to Miss Eugenia Potter," said Atlas, "for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points, exactly the same as Slytherin. They had tied for the house cup.

Atlas raised her hand. The room gradually fell silent. "There are all kinds of courage," said Atlas, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Miss Nadine Longbottom."

Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Nadine, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging her. She had never won so much as a point for Gryffindor before.

"Which means," Atlas called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration." She clapped her hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile.

It was the best evening of Nia's life, better than winning at Quidditch, or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls... she would never, ever forget tonight.

* * *

Nia had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, but come they did. To their great surprise, both she and Ronnie passed with good marks; Hugo, of course, had the best grades of the first years. Even Nadine scraped through, her good Herbology mark making up for her abysmal Potions one.

It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.

"You must come and stay this summer," said Ronnie, "both of you. I'll send you an owl."

"Thanks," said Nia, "I'll need something to look forward to."

People jostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called:

"Bye, Nia!"

"See you, Potter!"

"Still famous," said Ronnie, grinning at her.

"Not where I'm going, I promise you," said Nia.

She, Ronnie, and Hugo passed through the gateway together.

"Ready, are you?" It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Nia, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Daisy, looking terrified at the very sight of Nia. "Hurry up, girl, we haven't got all day."

Nia hung back for a last word with Ronnie and Hugo. "See you over the summer, then."

"Hope you have... er... a good holiday," said Hugo, looking uncertainly after Uncle Vernon, shocked that anyone could be so unpleasant.

"Oh, I will," said Nia, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over her face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. And I'm not about to tell them."

 _~to be continued_


	14. chapter thirteen

Hey, it's me again, back for another year at Hogwarts! Hope you guys enjoy the second arc. Lots of love 333

 _"It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."_

* * *

Act II - **more than our abilities**

Part I - _the house-elf_

* * *

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from Nia's room.

"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"

Nia tried, yet again, to explain. "She's bored. She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night-"

"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.

Nia tried to argue back but her words were drowned by a long, loud belch from Daisy. "Sorry," she said not sounding sorry at all. "Will you pass the frying pan?"

"Say the magic word," said Nia irritably. The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Daisy gasped, Aunt Petunia gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth, and Uncle Vernon jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. "I meant _'please'_!" said Nia quickly.

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered her uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

"But I-"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DAISY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.

"I just-"

"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

Nia stared from her purple-faced uncle to her pale aunt, who was trying to calm Daisy down. "All right," said Nia, "I'm sorry."

Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Nia closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes. Uncle Vernon had been treating her like a bomb that might go off at any moment, but if the Dursleys were unhappy to have her back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Nia felt. She missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. All her spellbooks, her wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Nia had come home.

"Now, as we all know, today is a very important day," Uncle Vernon said. He was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him. "I think we should run through the schedule one more time. We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be-?"

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"Good, good. And Daisy?"

"I'll be waiting to open the door."

"Excellent," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Nia. "And you?"

"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Nia tonelessly.

"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. Right. I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Nia. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."

Nia left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. It was also her birthday. She crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under her breath: _"Happy birthday to me."_ No cards, no presents, and she would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. She had never felt so lonely.

She missed her best friends, Ronnie and Hugo. They, however, didn't seem to be missing her at all. Neither of them had written to her all summer, even though Ronnie had said she was going to ask Nia to come and stay.

What wouldn't she give now for a message from- Nia suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. She had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves. Or had she imagined it?

Nia didn't have much time to think about it because Aunt Petunia soon gave her work to do with the promise she wouldn't eat again until she'd finished. So while Daisy lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Nia cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench.

It was half past seven, in the evening when at last, exhausted, she heard Aunt Petunia calling her. Nia moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven. Her aunt made her eat her dinner quickly (two slices of bread and a lump of cheese) and then sent her upstairs.

Nia had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs. "Remember, girl... one sound..." Nia crossed to her bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside and closed the door, ready to bask in her loneliness.

Only she wasn't alone.

She managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Nia knew instantly that this was what had been watching her out of the garden hedge that morning. The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. Nia noticed that it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg holes.

"Er... hello," she said nervously.

"Eugenia Potter!" said the creature in a high-pitched voice Nia was sure would carry down the stairs. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you... Such an honor it is..."

"Th-thank you," said Nia, "Who... Who are you?"

"Dobby, milady. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf," said the creature.

"Oh... really?" said Nia. "Er... Look, I don't want to be rude, but this isn't a great time for me to have a house-elf in my bedroom. Not that I'm not pleased to meet you, but, er, is there any particular reason you're here?"

"Oh, yes," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you... it is difficult... Dobby wonders where to begin..."

"How about you sit down," said Nia politely, pointing at the bed. To her horror, the elf burst into tears; very noisy tears.

"S-sit down!" he wailed. "Never... never ever..."

Nia thought she heard the voices downstairs falter. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything..."

"Offend Dobby!" choked the elf. "Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard... like an equal..."

Nia, trying to say _"Shh!"_ and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby onto the bed where he sat with his great eyes fixed on Nia in an expression of watery adoration. "You can't have met many decent wizards," said Nia, trying to cheer him up.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Don't... what are you doing?" Nia hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed.

"Dobby had to punish himself," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family..."

"Your family?" "

The wizard family Dobby serves... Dobby's a house elf, bound to serve one house and one family forever."

"Do they know you're here?" asked Nia curiously.

Dobby shuddered. "Oh, no, no... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew..."

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments..."

"Why don't you leave? Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, milady. And the family will never set Dobby free... Dobby will serve the family until he dies."

Nia stared. "Can't anyone help you? Can't I?" Almost at once, Nia wished she hadn't spoken. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude. "Please," Nia whispered frantically, "please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you're here-"

"Eugenia Potter asks if she can help Dobby... Dobby has heard of your greatness, milady, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew..."

Nia, who was feeling distinctly hot in the face, said, "Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that's Hugo, he-" But she stopped quickly, because thinking about Hugo was painful.

"Eugenia Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Eugenia Potter speaks not of her triumph over She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Malvina?" said Nia.

Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, speak not the name!"

"Sorry" said Nia quickly. "I know lots of people don't like it. My friend Ronnie-" She stopped again. Thinking about Ronnie was painful, too.

Dobby leaned toward Nia, his eyes wide as headlights. "Dobby heard tell," he said hoarsely, "that Eugenia Potter met the Red Lady for a second time just weeks ago... that Eugenia Potter escaped yet again. "

Nia nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. "Ah, milady," he gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Eugenia Potter is valiant and bold! She has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Eugenia Potter, to warn her, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later... Eugenia Potter must not go back to Hogwarts."

"W-what?" Nia stammered. "But I've got to go back... term starts on September first. I can't stay here. You don't know what it's like here. I don't belong here."

"Eugenia Potter must stay where she is safe. She is too great, too good, to lose. If Eugenia Potter goes back to Hogwarts, she will be in mortal danger."

"Why?"

"There is a plot, Eugenia Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months. Eugenia Potter must not put herself in peril. She is too important!"

"What terrible things?" said Nia at once. "Who's plotting them?" Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall. "All right!" cried Nia, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me? Hang on... this hasn't got anything to do with Mal... sorry... with You-Know-Who, has it?"

Slowly, Dobby shook his head. "Not... not She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Nia a hint. She, however, was completely lost.

"Well then, I can't think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," she said. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing... you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head. "Atlas Dumbledore is the greatest headmistress Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of her strength. But..." Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't... powers no decent wizard..." And before Nia could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized her desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps.

A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Nia, heart thudding madly, heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Daisy must have left her television on again!"

"Quick! In the closet!" hissed Nia, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door, and flinging herself onto the bed just as the door handle turned.

 _"What-the-devil-are-you-doing?"_ said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to Nia's. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke... One more sound and you'll wish you'd never been born!" He stomped flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, Nia let Dobby out of the closet. "See what it's like here?" she said. "See why I've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place I've got friends."

"Friends who don't even write to Eugenia Potter?" said Dobby slyly.

"I expect they've just been... wait a minute," said Nia, frowning. "How do you know my friends haven't been writing to me?"

Dobby shuffled his feet. "Eugenia Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best..."

"Have you been stopping my letters?"

"Dobby has them here, yes," said the elf. He pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. "Eugenia Potter mustn't be angry... Dobby hoped ... if Eugenia Potter thought her friends had forgotten her... Eugenia Potter might not want to go back to school..."

Nia wasn't listening. She made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.

"Eugenia Potter will have them if she gives Dobby her word that she will not return to Hogwarts. This is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back!"

"No," said Nia angrily. "Give me my letters!"

"Then Eugenia Potter leaves Dobby no choice," said the elf sadly. Before Nia could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs.

Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Nia sprang after him, trying not to make a sound. She ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt her stomach disappear. Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.

"No," croaked Nia. "Please... they'll kill me..."

"Eugenia Potter must say she's not going back to school."

"Dobby... please..."

"Say it."

"I can't-"

Dobby gave her a tragic look. "Then Dobby must do it, milady, for Eugenia Potter's own good." The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.

There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Nia, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunias pudding.

At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over. "Just our niece... very disturbed... meeting strangers upsets her, so we kept her upstairs..." He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised Nia he would flay her to within an inch of her life when the Masons had left, and handed her a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and Nia, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean.

Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal, if it hadn't been for the owl. Aunt Petunia was just passing around a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason's head, and swooped out again. Mrs. Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.

Nia stood in the kitchen, clutching the mop for support, as Uncle Vernon advanced on her, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes. "Read it!" he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. "Go on. Read it!"

Nia took it. It did not contain birthday greetings.

 _Dear Miss Potter, we have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine. As you know, underage wizards and witches are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C). We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

 _Enjoy your holidays! Yours sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk._

 _IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_

 _Ministry of Magic_

Nia looked up from the letter and gulped.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "For got to mention it... Slipped your mind, I dare say..." He was bearing down on Nia like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you... I'm locking you up... You're never going back to that school... never... and if you try and magic yourself out... they'll expel you!"

And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Nia back upstairs.


	15. chapter fourteen

Act II - **more than our abilities**

Part II - _the burrow_

* * *

The following morning, Uncle Vernon paid a man to fit bars on Nia's window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Nia out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, she was locked in her room around the clock.

Three days later, Nia lay on her bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to her. Life at Privet Drive had reached an all-time low. What would happen if she didn't turn up at Hogwarts? Would someone be sent to see why she hadn't come back?

The room was growing dark. Exhausted, stomach rumbling, mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions, she fell into an uneasy sleep. When she opened her eyes, moonlight was shining through the bars on the window, and someone was goggling through the bars at her: a freckle-faced, red-haired someone.

"Ronnie?" breathed Nia, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. "How did you... What the...?" Nia's mouth fell open as the full impact of what she was seeing hit her. Ronnie was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in midair. Grinning at Nia from the front seats were Fred and George.

"All right, Nia?" asked George.

"What's been going on?" said Ronnie. "Why haven't you been answering my letters? I've asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you'd got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles..."

"It wasn't me!"

"...you know we're not supposed to do spells outside school..."

"You should talk," said Nia, staring at the floating car.

"Oh, this doesn't count," said Ronnie. "We're only borrowing this. It's Dad's, we didn't enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with..."

"I told you, I didn't!"

"Whatever," said Ronnie. "We've come to take you home with us."

"But... How?"

"You forget who I've got with me," said Ronnie, jerking her head toward the front seat and grinning.

"Tie that around the bars," said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Nia.

"If the Dursleys wake up, I'm dead," she said as she tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car.

"Don't worry," said Fred, "and stand back."

Nia moved back into the shadows next to Hedwig, who seemed to have realized how important this was and kept still and silent. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air. Ronnie hoisted them up into the car. Nia listened anxiously, but there was no sound from the Dursleys' bedroom.

Fred reversed as close as possible to the window.

"Get in," Ronnie said.

"But all my Hogwarts stuff..."

"Where is it?"

"Locked in the cupboard under the stairs."

"No problem," said George from the front passenger seat. "Out of the way, Nia." Fred and George climbed catlike through the window into her room. George took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock.

"A lot of wizards think it's a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick," said Fred, "but we feel they're skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow." There was a small click and the door swung open.

"So... we'll get your trunk. You grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ronnie," whispered George.

"Watch out for the bottom stair, it creaks," Nia whispered back as the twins disappeared onto the dark landing. She dashed around the room, collecting her things and passing them out of the window to Ronnie. Then she went to help Fred and George heave her trunk up the stairs.

At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through her room to the open window. Fred climbed back into the car to pull with Ronnie, and Nia and George pushed from the bedroom side.

"A bit more," panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. "One good push-"

Nia and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car. "Okay, let's go," George whispered. But as Nia was passing Hedwig's cage out to Ronnie, the owl made a complaint which was followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

Nia was scrambling onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door and it crashed open. For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Nia, grabbing her by the ankle.

Ronnie, Fred, and George seized her arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "She's getting away!"

But the Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Nia's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp. Nia was in the car and she'd slammed the door shut.

"Put your foot down, Fred!" yelled Ronnie, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon.

Nia couldn't believe it. She was free. She rolled down the window, the night air whipping her hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Daisy were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of her window.

"See you next summer!" Nia yelled.

The Weasleys roared with laughter and Nia settled back in her seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"Let Hedwig out," she told Ronnie. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."

George handed the hairpin to Ronnie and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.

"So... what's the story?" said Ronnie impatiently. "What's been happening?"

Nia told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given her and the fiasco of the violet pudding.

"Very fishy," said Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy" agreed George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Nia. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall." She saw Fred and George look at each other. "You think he was lying to me?"

"Well," said Fred, "put it this way... house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke."

"It could be Malfoy," Ronnie suggested, instantly.

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf," said Nia.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.

"Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn't catch one in our house..."

Nia was silent. She could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family servant to stop Nia from going back to Hogwarts also sounded exactly like the sort of thing she would do.

"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," said Ronnie. "I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first..."

"Who's Errol?"

"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes-"

"Who?"

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect," said Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ronnie. "Said he needed him."

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a prefect badge... You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.

"So, does your dad know you've got the car?" said Nia, guessing the answer.

"Er, no," said Ronnie, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it."

"What does your dad do, anyway?"

"He works in the most boring department of the Ministry," said Ronnie. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle-made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house."

"But your dad... this car..."

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"That's the main road," said George, peering down through the windshield. "We'll be there in ten minutes... Just as well, it's getting light." Fred brought the car lower, and Nia saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees. "We're a little way outside the village," said George. "Ottery St. Catchpole."

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Nia looked out for the first time at Ronnie's house.

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW.

"It's not much," said Ronnie.

"It's wonderful," said Nia happily, thinking of Privet Drive.

"Right," said Ronnie with a smile. "Come on, I sleep at the... at the top..." Ronnie had gone a nasty greenish color, her eyes fixed on the house. The other three wheeled around.

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger.

"Ah," said Fred.

"Oh, dear," said George.

Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next.

"Morning, Mum," said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to-"

All three of Mrs. Weasley's children were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them. "Beds empty! No note! Car gone... could have crashed... out of my mind with worry... did you care? Never, as long as I've lived... you wait until your father gets home! You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job..." It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Nia, who backed away. "I'm very pleased to see you, Eugenia, dear," she said. "Come in and have some breakfast."

She turned and walked back into the house and Nia, after a nervous glance at Ronnie, who nodded encouragingly, followed her. The kitchen was small and rather cramped. Nia sat down looking around. She had never been in a wizard house before.

Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her children as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like "don't know what you were thinking of," and "never would have believed it."

"I don't blame you, dear," she assured Nia, tipping eight or nine sausages onto her plate. "Arthur and I have been worried about you, too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ronnie by Friday. But really, flying an illegal car halfway across the country... anyone could have seen you..." She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background.

"It was cloudy, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"They were starving her, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley.

Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"Blimey, I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and-"

"You will not," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting completely out of hand again-"

"Oh, Mum-"

"And you two," she said, glaring at Ronnie and Fred. "You can go up to bed, dear," she added to Nia. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car-"

But Nia, who felt wide awake, said quickly, "I'll help them. I've never seen a de-gnoming-"

"That's very sweet of you, dear, but it's dull work," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject-" And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden-"

Nia looked at the cover of Mrs. Weasley's book. Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests. There was a big photograph on the front of a very good-looking wizard with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes, winking cheekily up at them all.

"Mum fancies him," said Fred, in a very audible whisper.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys slouched outside with Nia behind them. The garden was large, and in Nia's eyes, exactly what a garden should be. There were plenty of weeds and gnarled trees all around the walls, and a big green pond full of frogs.

The Weasleys showed Nia what to do with the gnomes and soon the air was thick with flying gnomes.

"They'll be back," said Ronnie as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here... Dad's too soft with them; he thinks they're funny."

Just then, the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"

They hurried through the garden and back into the house. Mr. Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's.

"What a night," he mumbled. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned..."

"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr. Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness... Now, the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe-"

"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?" Mrs. Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword.

Mr. Weasley stared guiltily at his wife. "C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying a rusty old car and telling his wife all he wanted to do with it was take it apart to see how it worked, while really he was enchanting it to make it fly."

Mr. Weasley blinked. "Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be quite within the law to do that, even if... er... he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth... There's a loophole in the law... As long as he wasn't intending to fly the car, the fact that the car could fly wouldn't-"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs. Weasley. "And for your information, Eugenia arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Eugenia?" said Mr. Weasley blankly. "Eugenia who?" He looked around, saw Nia, and jumped. "Good lord, Eugenia Potter, is it? Very pleased to meet you, Ronnie's told us so much about-"

"Your sons and daughter flew that car to Eugenia's house and back last night," shouted Mrs. Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Did it go all right? I... I mean," he faltered as sparks flew from Mrs. Weasley's eyes, "that... that was very wrong, children, very wrong indeed..."

"Let's leave them to it," Ronnie muttered to Nia as Mrs. Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. "Come on, I'll show you my bedroom."

They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which wound its way, zigzagging up through the house. They climbed until they reached a door with peeling paint and a small plaque on it, saying VERONICA'S ROOM.

Nia stepped in, her head almost touching the sloping ceiling, and blinked. Nearly everything in Ronnie's room seemed to be a violent shade of orange.

"It's a bit small," said Ronnie quickly. "And I'm right underneath the ghoul in the attic... and..."

But Nia, grinning widely, said, "This is the best house I've ever been in."

Ronnie's ears went pink.


	16. chapter fifteen

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part III — _lucius malfoy_

* * *

Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. The house burst with the strange and unexpected. The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal. What Nia found most unusual about life there, however, was the fact that everybody there seemed to like her.

One sunny morning, she and Ronnie went down to breakfast to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley already sitting at the kitchen table.

"Letters from school," said Mr. Weasley, passing them identical envelopes. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Nia... doesn't miss a trick, that woman. You two've got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pajamas.

For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Nia's. "You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said.

"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."

"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried.

Just then Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest. "Morning, all," he said briskly. "Lovely day." He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a moulting, gray feather duster—

"Errol!" said Ronnie, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. "Finally. He's got Hugo's answer. I wrote to him saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys." She ripped open Hugo's letter and read it out loud: _"Dear Ronnie, and Nia if you're there, I hope everything went alright and that Nia is okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get her out, Veronica, because that would get Nia into trouble, too. If she is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off. We're going to London next Wednesday. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know as soon as you can. Hugo."_

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. "What're you all up to today?"

Nia, Ronnie, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned, so they could all practice Quidditch there. Well, except Percy. He stayed shut in his room most of the time.

"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all."

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained, seeing Nia's puzzled look. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

* * *

Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. She took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside. "We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Nia, dear!" And she offered her the flowerpot.

Nia stared at them.

"She's never traveled by Floo powder," said Ronnie suddenly. "Sorry, Nia, I forgot."

"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground."

"Really?" said Mr. Weasley eagerly. "Were there _escapators?_ How—"

"Not now, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before-"

"She'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Nia, watch us first." He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.

"You must speak clearly," Mrs. Weasley told Nia as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate..."

"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ronnie advised.

"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley.

Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Nia took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. She took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; she opened her mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.

"D-Dia-gon Alley," she coughed. It felt as though she was being sucked down a giant drain. She seemed to be spinning very fast and the whirl of green flames made her feel sick. She closed her eyes again wishing it would stop, and then she fell, face forward, onto cold stone.

Dizzy and covered in soot, she got gingerly to her feet. She had no idea where she was. All she could tell was that she was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. It was definitely not Diagon Alley.

Nia made her way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before she'd got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass. Daenerys Malfoy was one of them. Nia looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to her left; she shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through.

Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Daenerys stepped into the shop. The man who followed could only be her father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. He crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter.

A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face. "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. And Miss Malfoy, too, charmed. How may I be of assistance? I must show you—"

"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling," said Mr. Malfoy.

"Selling?" The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgin's face.

"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids," said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I have a few...ah... items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call..."

Mr. Borgin looked down the list. "I understand, sir, of course. Let me see..."

They started to haggle. Nia watched nervously as Daenerys drew nearer and nearer to her hiding place, examining the objects for sale.

"Done," said Mr. Malfoy at the counter. "Come, Dany. Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. I'll expect you at the manor tomorrow to pick up the goods."

The moment the door had closed, Mr. Borgin disappeared into a back room. Nia waited for a minute in case he came back, then, quietly as she could, slipped out of the cabinet, past the glass cases, and out of the shop door.

She had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. Two shabby-looking wizards were watching her from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other. Feeling jumpy, she set off hoping against hope she'd be able to find a way out of here.

"NIA! What d'yeh think yer doin' down there?"

Nia's heart leapt as the massive form of Hagrid came striding toward her, beetle-black eyes flashing over his great bristling beard. He seized her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her along the twisting alleyway out into bright sunlight, steering her right into Diagon Alley.

"Yer a mess!" said Hagrid gruffly, brushing soot off her. "Skulkin' around Knockturn Alley... Yer not on yer own?"

"I'm staying with the Weasleys but we got separated," Nia explained. They set off together down the street.

"Nia! Nia! Over here!"

Nia looked up and saw Hugo Granger standing at the top of the white flight of steps to Gringotts. He ran down to meet them. Also, sprinting up the crowded street were the Weasleys.

"Nia," Mr. Weasley panted. "We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far."

"Where did you come out?" Ronnie asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

"Excellent." said Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ronnie enviously.

"Oh, Nia... oh, my dear... you could have been anywhere..." Mrs Weasley was saying.

Hagrid said his goodbyes and strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street. Nia told the Weasleys about the Malfoys.

"So he's worried," said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door. "That family's trouble."

But he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hugo's parents, who were waiting for Hugo to introduce them.

"But you're Muggles!" said Mr. Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!"

Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted Lee Jordan. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.

Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo strolled off along the winding, cobbled street where they found Nadine Longbottom carrying a cauldron and looking desperate to be saved from her grandmother. They invited her to join them for ice cream. An hour later, after searching the streets for something interesting to do, they headed for Flourish and Blotts.

As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling out side the doors, trying to get in. Gilderoy Lockhart was signing copies of his autobiography. They squeezed inside and found the rest of the Weasleys standing with Mr. and Mrs. Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs. Weasley.

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face. He looked up and then he saw Nia. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It can't be Eugenia Potter?"

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward, seized Nia's arm, and pulled her to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Nia's face burned as Lockhart shook her hand for the photographer.

"Nice big smile, Eugenia," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page." He threw an arm around her shoulders and clamped her tightly to his side. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly. "What an extraordinary moment this is! When young Eugenia here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, she only wanted to buy my autobiography, which I shall be happy to present her now, free of charge-" The crowd applauded again. "She had no idea that she would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. She and her schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure announcing that I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Nia found herself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, she managed to make her way out of the limelight to the edge of the room, where Ronnie was standing. "You have these," Nia mumbled to her. "I'll buy my own—"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Nia had no trouble recognizing. Daenerys Malfoy was wearing her usual sneer. "Famous Eugenia Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Oh, it's you," said Ronnie, looking at Daenerys as if she were something unpleasant on the sole of her shoe.

"I'm surprised to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Daenerys. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Ronnie went red in the face. She dropped her books and started toward Daenerys, but Nia and Hugo grabbed the back of her shirt.

"You're just jealous," said Nadine. Daenerys turned to her, but before she could say something mean, Mr. Weasley came over with Fred and George.

"What are you all doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside," he said.

"Well, well, well... Arthur Weasley." It was Mr. Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Daenerys' shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius," said Mr. Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry," said Mr. Malfoy. "I hope they're paying you overtime." He reached for Ronnie's robes. "Well, obviously not. What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizards if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr. Weasley flushed darker than Ronnie. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizards, Lucius," he said.

Mr. Weasley moved as if to hit him, but Mrs Weasley stepped forward and put a firm hand on his shoulder. Mr. Malfoy beckoned to Daenerys and swept from the shop purposely shoving Nadine's cauldron so hard she nearly dropped it and everything inside.

* * *

The end of the summer vacation came too quickly for Nia's liking. Her month at the Burrow had been the happiest of her life.

It took a long while to get started the morning of the last day. They were up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Mrs. Weasley dashed about in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills and Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck, tripping over a stray chicken as he crossed the yard carrying Ronnie's trunk to the car. Mr. Weasley had magically expanded the trunk so that the luggage fitted easily.

They reached King's Cross at a quarter to eleven. Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for their trunks and they all hurried into the station.

"Percy first," said Mrs. Weasley. Percy strode briskly forward and vanished through the barrier. Mr. Weasley went next; Fred and George followed. Then Mrs. Weasley went.

"Let's go together, we've only got a minute," Ronnie said to Nia.

Both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and—

 _CRASH._

Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ronnie's trunk fell off with a loud thump and Nia was knocked off her feet.

"Why can't we get through?" she hissed to Ronnie.

"I dunno—" Ronnie looked wildly around. "We're going to miss the train. I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself—"

Nia looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Ten seconds... nine seconds...

She placed her hand on the barrier. Solid.

Two seconds... one second...

"It's gone," said Ronnie, sounding stunned.

They marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station and back onto the side road where the old Ford Anglia was parked. They put everything inside it and got into the front.

"Check that no one's watching," said Ronnie, starting the ignition with a tap of her wand. Nia stuck her head out of the window; the street was empty.

"Okay," she said.

Ronnie pressed a tiny silver button on the dashboard. The car around them vanished, and so did they.

"Let's go," said Ronnie. The ground and the dirty buildings on either side fell away, dropping out of sight as the car rose; in seconds, the whole of London lay below them. Then there was a popping noise and the car reappeared. "Uh-oh," said Ronnie, jabbing at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty—"

Both of them pummeled it. The car vanished. Then it flickered back again.

Ronnie slammed her foot on the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.

"Now what?" said Nia.

"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," said Ronnie.

They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground. "I can see it!" Nia yelled. "Right ahead... there!"

The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them like a scarlet snake.

"Due north," said Ronnie, checking the compass on the dashboard. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so." And they shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.

It was a different world. The girls looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop. It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream.

They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view. London was soon far behind them.

Several uneventful hours later, however, some of the fun was wearing off.

"Can't be much further, can it?" croaked Ronnie, as the sun started to sink into their floor of cloud. As if on cue, the engine began to whine. Nia and Ronnie exchanged nervous glances. "It's probably just tired," said Ronnie. "It's never been this far before..."

And they both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker.


	17. chapter sixteen

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part IV — _gilderoy lockhart_

* * *

Eventually, they saw it. Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts castle. But the car had begun to shudder and was losing speed. "Come on," Ronnie said cajolingly, giving the steering wheel a little shake, "nearly there..."

The engine groaned. Steam was issuing from under the hood. Nia found herself gripping the edges of her seat. The car gave a nasty wobble. Ronnie's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. They were over the lake; the castle was right ahead. Ronnie put her foot down. There was a loud clunk, a splutter, and the engine died completely.

The nose of the car dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall. Ronnie yelled, swinging the steering wheel around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the grounds, losing altitude all the time.

Ronnie let go of the steering wheel completely and pulled her wand out of her back pocket. "STOP! STOP!" she yelled, whacking the dashboard and the windshield, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward them.

 _CRUNCH._

With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit a thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from under the crumpled hood; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; and Ronnie let out a low, despairing groan.

"Are you okay?" Nia said urgently.

"My wand," she said, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand-"

It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters. Nia opened her mouth to speak, but at that very moment, something hit her side of the car with the force of a charging bull, sending her lurching sideways into Ronnie, just as an equally heavy blow hit the roof.

"What now?" Ronnie gasped, staring through the windshield, and Nia looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the car it could reach. The windshield was now trembling under a hail of blows from knuckle-like twigs and a branch as thick as a battering ram was pounding furiously on the roof.

Suddenly the floor of the car was vibrating. The engine had restarted and the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.

"That," panted Ronnie, "was close."

But it wasn't over. With two sharp clunks, the car doors flew open and Nia felt her seat tip sideways: Next thing she was sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told her that the car was ejecting their luggage from the trunk. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, the car rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.

"Come back!" Ronnie yelled after it, brandishing her broken wand. But the car disappeared from view with one last snort from its exhaust. Dad'll kill me," said Ronnie miserably, bending down to pick up Scabbers.

Stiff, cold, and bruised, they seized the ends of their trunks and began dragging them up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors where they were received by the worst possible person: Snape. He was smiling in a way that told Nia she and Ronnie were in very deep trouble.

"Follow me," he said. They followed him up the steps into the hall and down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons. In his office, Snape closed the door and turned to look at them. "So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Eugenia Potter and her faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, now?"

"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it-"

"Silence!" He unrolled today's issue of the Evening Prophet. "You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: _FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES._ "Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he said, looking up at Ronnie and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear... his own daughter..."

Nia felt as though she'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Mr. Weasley had bewitched the car...

"Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me," Snape went on. "Now wait here."

He left and came back ten minutes later with both Professor McGonagall and Atlas Dumbledore, looking unusually grave. There was a long silence. Then Atlas said, "Please explain why you did this."

It would have been better if she had shouted. Nia hated the disappointment in her voice. She was unable to look Atlas in the eyes, and spoke instead to her knees. When she had finished, Atlas merely continued to peer at them with those blue eyes.

"You're going to expel us, aren't you?" said Ronnie in a hopeless sort of voice.

"Not today, Miss Weasley," said Atlas. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Snape cleared his throat and said, "Headmistress, these girls have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree and—"

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these girls' punishments, Severus," said Atlas calmly. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility." She turned to McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus."

Snape allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall. "You will both get a detention, let it be known," she warned. "But now I must also return to the feast."

They rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower, unable to believe their luck. The castle was quiet. They reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden.

"Password?" said the Fat Lady.

They didn't know, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hugo dashing toward them. "There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors... someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car-"

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Nia assured him.

"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hugo, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall. "Could've invited me, yes?"

"What is the password, Hugo?" asked Ronnie, grinning.

"It's _wattlebird_ ," said Hugo impatiently, "but that's not the point-" His words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull them inside.

"What an entrance!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Flying a car right into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that one for years..."

Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't we've come in the car, eh?"

Ronnie was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly and Nia couldn't help it. She grinned, too.

* * *

The next day, things started to go downhill from breakfast in the Great Hall. Nia and Ronnie sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Hugo and Nadine.

"Mail's due any minute," Nadine was saying. "I think Gran's sending a few things I forgot."

Sure enough, there was a rushing sound overhead and a hundred or so owls streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages into the chattering crowd. A big, lumpy package bounced off Nadine's head and, a second later, something large and gray fell into Hugo's jug.

"Enrol!" said Ronnie, pulling the bedraggled owl out by the feet. Errol had a damp red envelope in his beak. "Oh, no..." Ronnie gasped, looking at the envelope like she expected it to explode.

"What's the matter?" said Nia.

"She's... she's sent me a Howler," said Ronnie faintly.

"You'd better open it," said Nadine in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't."

"What's a Howler?" asked Nia.

But Ronnie's whole attention was fixed on the letter, which had begun to smoke at the corners. She stretched out a shaking hand, eased the envelope from Errol's beak, and slit it open. A roar of sound filled the huge hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

 _"...STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU..."_

Mrs. Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual, echoed deafeningly off the stone walls.

 _"...LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME... YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."_

A ringing silence fell. The red envelope burst into flames and curled into ashes. Nia and Ronnie sat stunned, as though a tidal wave had just passed over them. A few people laughed and, gradually, a babble of talk broke out again. Nia pushed her porridge away. Mr. Weasley was facing an inquiry at work and it was, in fact, entirely their fault.

They left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses. Their first class was Herbology. As they neared the greenhouses they saw the rest of the class standing outside, waiting for Professor Sprout who was accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Oh, hello there!" he called, beaming around at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the right way to doctor a Whomping Willow!"

"Greenhouse three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled, not at all her usual cheerful self.

Nia was about to follow Ronnie and Hugo inside when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Oh, Nia! I've been wanting a word. You don't mind if she's a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?" Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart simply closed the greenhouse door in her face. "Nia," he said again. "Nia, Nia, Nia. When I heard... well, of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well, of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Gave you a taste for publicity, didn't I? You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

"Oh, no, Professor, I—"

"Nia," said Lockhart. "I understand. But there is plenty of time for all that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know that I'm an internationally famous wizard already, but when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even more of a nobody!" He glanced at the lightning scar on her forehead, then gave her a hearty wink and strode off.

Nia stood stunned for a few seconds, then, remembering she was supposed to be in the greenhouse, opened the door and slid inside. Professor Sprout was standing behind a trestle bench in the center of the greenhouse. "We'll be repotting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

Hugo's hand was first into the air. "Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative," he said. "It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

Hugo's hand shot up again. "The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Precisely. Take another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young. Everyone take a pair of earmuffs and put them on."

Nia snapped the earmuffs over her ears. Professor Sprout rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard. Instead of roots, a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby popped out of the earth, clearly bawling at the top of his lungs. Professor Sprout plunged the Mandrake into a pot, burying him in dark, damp compost, then removed her own earmuffs.

"As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet. However, they will knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work."

Nia, Ronnie, Hugo and Nadine set out to work. It wasn't easy and by the end of the class, Nia was sweaty, aching, and covered in earth.

Everyone traipsed back to the castle for a quick wash and then the Gryffindors hurried off to Transfiguration where they had to turn a beetle into a button. Ronnie had patched up her wand with some borrowed Spellotape, but it seemed to be damaged beyond repair.

After that, they went down to lunch, where they talked for several minutes before Nia became aware that she was being closely watched. Looking up, she saw a very small, mousy-haired girl staring at her as though transfixed. She was clutching what looked like an ordinary Muggle camera, and the moment Nia looked at her, she went bright red.

"Hi! I'm... I'm Casey Creevey," she said breathlessly, taking a tentative step forward. "I'm in Gryffindor, too. D'you think... would it be all right if... can I have a picture?" she said, raising the camera hopefully.

"A picture?"

"So I can prove I've met you," said Casey eagerly. "I know all about you. Everyone's told me. Oh! And a girl in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures'll move. See, my dad's a milkman. So I'm taking loads of pictures to send home to him. And it'd be really good if I had one of you. And then, could you sign it?"

"Signed photos? You're giving out signed photos, Potter?" Loud and scathing, Daenerys Malfoy's voice echoed around the courtyard. She had stopped right behind Casey, flanked by Victoria Crabbe and Giselle Goyle. "Everyone line up! Eugenia Potter's giving out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Nia angrily. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Yeah, eat slugs, Malfoy," said Ronnie angrily.

"Be careful, Weasley," sneered Daenerys. "You don't want to start any trouble or your Mommy'll have to come and take you away from school." She put on a shrill, piercing voice. _"If you put another toe out of line_ — _"_

"What's all this, what's all this?" Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them. "Who's giving out signed photos?" he spotted Nia. "Shouldn't have asked! We meet again, Nia! Come on then, Miss Creevey. A double portrait and we'll both sign it for you."

Casey took the picture as the bell rang behind them, signaling the start of afternoon classes.

Lockhart guiding Nia out of the big hall. "A word to the wise, Nia. I covered up for you back there... if she was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won't think you're setting yourself up so much... Handing out signed pictures at this stage of your career isn't sensible, to be frank..." He went on and on until they'd reached his classroom where Nia headed for a seat at the very back of the class, where she busied herself with piling all seven of Lockhart's books in front of her, so that she could avoid looking at the real thing.

The rest of the class came clattering in, and Ronnie and Hugo sat down on either side of Nia.

"You could've fried an egg on your face" said Ronnie.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell.

"Me," he said. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" Nobody laughed so he cleared his throat again. "Now, to business..."

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.

"Be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm."

Lockhart placed a hand on the cover.

"I must ask you not to scream," he said in a low voice. "It might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort. "Cornish pixies?"

"Freshly caught!" said Lockhart. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Let's see what you make of them!" And Lockhart opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Nadine by the ears and lifted her into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Nadine was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

"Come on now... round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted. He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, _"Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"_

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Nadine, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit.


	18. chapter seventeen

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part V — _mudbloods and squibs_

* * *

Nia spent a lot of time over the next few days dodging out of sight whenever she saw Gilderoy Lockhart coming down a corridor. Harder to avoid was Casey Creevey, who seemed to have memorized Nia's schedule. Ronnie's wand was still malfunctioning, surpassing itself on Friday morning by shooting out of her hand in Charms and hitting tiny old Professor Flitwick squarely between the eyes.

Saturday morning Nia was shaken awake several hours earlier than she would have liked by Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Whassamatter?" she said groggily.

"Quidditch practice!" said Wood. "Come on!"

Nia squinted at the window. "Oliver," she croaked. "It's the crack of dawn."

"Exactly," said Wood with a crazed enthusiasm. "It's part of our new training program. Come on, grab your broom, and let's go. None of the other teams have started training yet; we're going to be first off the mark this year—"

Yawning, Nia climbed out of bed and tried to find her Quidditch robes.

"Meet you on the field in fifteen minutes," said Wood.

Nia scribbled a note to Ronnie explaining where she'd gone and went down the spiral staircase to the common room, her Nimbus Two Thousand on her shoulder. She had just reached the portrait hole when there was a clatter behind her and Casey Creevey came dashing down the spiral staircase, her camera swinging madly around her neck.

"I heard someone saying your name on the stairs, Nia! Can I—"

"Sorry, Casey, I'm in a hurry," Nia cut her. "Quidditch practice..." She climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oh, wow! Wait for me! I've never watched a Quidditch game before!" Casey scrambled through the hole after her, her face shining with excitement. "You were the youngest House player in a hundred years, weren't you, Nia? You must be brilliant. I've never flown. Is it easy? Is that your own broom? Is that the best one there is?"

Nia didn't know how to get rid of her. It was like having an extremely talkative shadow. She didn't stop questioning Nia all the way down the sloping lawns to the Quidditch field, and Nia only shook her off when she reached the changing rooms and Casey hurried off to the stands.

The rest of the Gryffindor team were already in there. Wood was the only person who looked truly awake. Fred and George Weasley were sitting, puffy-eyed and tousle-haired next to fourth year Alicia Spinnet, who seemed to be nodding off against the wall behind her. Her fellow Chasers, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, were yawning side by side opposite them.

"There you are, Nia, what kept you?" said Wood briskly. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference..." As he launched into a speech about his new tactics, Fred Weasley's head drooped right onto Alicia Spinnet's shoulder and he began to snore.

"So," said Wood after forty minutes of talking. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question, Oliver," said George, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Wood wasn't pleased. "Now, listen here... We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately, owing to circumstances beyond our control..." Wood took a moment to regain control of himself. "This year, we train harder than ever before. Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!"

Stiff legged and still yawning, the team followed him onto the field. They had been in the locker room so long that the sun was up completely now. Nia mounted her broomstick but before she could do anything else, they were all called to attention: several people in green robes were walking onto the field, broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Wood hissed in outrage. "I booked the field for today! Flint!" he bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. "This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ' _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"_

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where?"

And from behind the six large figures before them came a seventh smirking all over her pale, pointed face.

"Malfoy?" said Nia, frowning.

"That's right," said Daenerys. "And that's not all that's new this year..." All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"A generous gift from Dany's father," said Flint carelessly. "Very latest model. Only came out last month." None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Daenerys was smirking so broadly her cold eyes were reduced to slits. "Oh, look," said Flint suddenly. "A field invasion."

Ronnie and Hugo were crossing the grass to see what was going on. "What are you doing here?" Ronnie was looking at Daenerys.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," she said, smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team." Ronnie gaped, open-mouthed. "That's right, Weasley. You see, unlike some, my father can afford to buy the best."

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," said Hugo sharply. "They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Daenerys' face flickered. "No one asked your opinion, you fiIthy little Mudblood," she spat.

There was an instant uproar at those words. Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!" and Ronnie gave Daenerys a shove that almost made her fall. Wood stepped forward and opened his arms trying to separate the two teams.

"Enough, guys," he said. "Save it for the match."

* * *

Later, Nia, Ronnie and Hugo found themselves having tea at Hagrid's for comfort. Hagrid was also in a bad mood (Lockhart had been to visit him too) but his expression brightened when he saw them. His boarhound, Fang, was slobbering over Nia.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?" she asked, scratching Fang's ears.

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

It was most unlike Hagrid to criticize a Hogwarts' teacher, and Nia looked at him in surprise.

"Aren't you being a bit unfair?" asked Hugo. "Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job—"

"He was the on' man for the job," said Hagrid. "An' I mean the on' one. Gettin' very difficult ter find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People are startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. But Lockhart's mah reason fer bein' crossed. Why are you three with long faces?"

Ronnie turned red on the face and Hugo looked at his feet. "Uh..." Nia looked from one to the other. "Malfoy called Hugo something... I don't know what it means, but I assume it was bad because—"

"It was bad," said Ronnie hoarsely. "She called him _Mudblood,_ Hagrid."

Hagrid looked outraged. "She didn'!" he growled at Hugo.

"She did," he said.

"What's a mudblood?" asked Nia.

"It means 'dirty blood,'" Hugo provided scientifically. "Mudblood's a foul name for someone who's Muggle-born. Someone with non-magic parents. Someone like me." He stopped. "It's not a term one usually hears in civilized conversation."

"It's about the most insulting thing you can say," said Ronnie.

"See, the thing is, Nia," started Hagrid, "there are some wizards, like Malfoy's family, who think they're better than everyon' else because they're what people call pure-blood."

"That's horrible."

"It's disgusting," said Ronnie.

"And it's codswallop to boot," finished Hagrid. "Dirty blood. Why, there isn't a wizard alive today that's not half-blood or less. More to the point, they've yet to think of a spell that Hugo can't do," he said proudly, making Hugo go a brilliant shade of magenta. "Oh, and Nia," he said abruptly as though struck by a sudden thought. "I've heard you've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

Nia chocked on her tea. "I have not been giving out signed photos," she said hotly. "If Lockhart's still spreading that around..." But then she saw that Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting her genially on the back and sending her face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn' need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bet he didn't like that," said Nia, sitting up and rubbing her chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he decided ter go. Oh! Come an' see what I've bin growin'," he added as they finished the last of their tea. In the small vegetable patch behind his house were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Nia had ever seen. "Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast."

"What've you been feeding them?" said Nia.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check that they were alone. "Well, I've bin givin' them... you know... a bit o' help..." and he glanced guiltily at his flowery pink umbrella.

"An Engorgement Charm?" said Hugo, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what Nadine Longbottom said," said Hagrid. "She helps me mind the grounds sometimes. Really like them plants that one."

It was nearly lunchtime and Nia was keen to go back to school to eat. They said good-bye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle. They had barely set foot in the cool entrance hall when a voice rang out, "There you are, Potter, Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking toward them, looking stern. "You will both do your detentions this evening."

"What're we doing, Professor?" said Ronnie.

"You will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr. Filch," said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley, elbow grease. And you, Potter, will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

"Oh no! Professor, can't I go and do the trophy room, too?" said Nia desperately.

"Certainly not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you particularly. Eight o'clock sharp, both of you."

Nia and Ronnie slouched into the Great Hall in states of deepest gloom, Hugo behind them, wearing a well-you-did-break-school-rules sort of expression. Both Nia and Ronnie felt they'd got the worse deal.

"Filch'll have me there all night," said Ronnie heavily. "No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap anytime," said Nia hollowly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail... he'll be a nightmare..."

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and in what seemed like no time, it was five minutes to eight, and Nia was dragging her feet along the second-floor corridor to Lockhart's office. She gritted her teeth and knocked. The door flew open at once.

"Ah, here you are!" Lockhart said. "Come in, Nia, come in." A pile of countless photographs of him lay on his desk. "You can address the envelopes!"

The minutes snailed by. Nia let Lockhart's voice wash over her, occasionally saying, "Mmm" and "Right" and "Yeah." The candles burned lower and lower. Nia moved her aching hand over what felt like the thousandth envelope, and then she heard something different. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom.

 _"Come... come to me... Let me rip you... Let me tear you... Let me kill you..."_

Nia gave a huge jump. "What?" she said loudly.

"I know!" said Lockhart. "Six solid months at the top of the best-seller list! Broke all records!"

"No," said Nia frantically. "That voice!"

"Sorry?" said Lockhart, looking puzzled. "What voice?"

"That... that voice that said... didn't you hear it?"

Lockhart was looking at her in high astonishment. "What are you talking about, Nia? Perhaps you're getting a little drowsy? Great Scott, look at the time! We've been here nearly four hours! Time's flown, hasn't it?"

Nia didn't answer. She was straining her ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for Lockhart saying goodnight. Feeling dazed, she left. It was so late that the Gryffindor common room was almost empty. She went straight up to the dormitory.

Half an hour later, Ronnie arrived, nursing her right arm and bringing a strong smell of polish into the darkened room. "My muscles have all seized up," she groaned. "Fourteen times he made me buff up that Quidditch cup before he was satisfied."

Keeping her voice low so as not to wake Nadine, Lavender, and Parvati, Nia told her exactly what she had heard.

"And Lockhart said he couldn't hear it?" said Ronnie. "D'you think he was lying? But even someone invisible would've had to open the door."

"I know," said Nia. "I know."

* * *

October arrived, spreading a damp chill over the grounds and into the castle. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Nadine Longbottom, who had been looking pale, was sent to the infirmary thrice.

The rain did not damp Wood's enthusiasm for regular training sessions, which was why Nia was to be found, late one stormy Saturday afternoon, returning to Gryffindor Tower, drenched to the skin and splattered with mud. As she squelched along the deserted corridor she came across Nearly Headless Nick staring morosely out of a window, muttering under his breath, "...don't fulfill their requirements... half an inch, if that..."

"Hello, Nick," she said.

"Hello, hello," he said looking round. "You look troubled, Miss Potter."

"So do you."

"Ah," he waved an elegant hand, "a matter of no importance... It's not as though I really wanted to join. Thought I'd apply, but apparently I _'don't fulfill requirements_ '." There was a look of great bitterness on his face. "But you would think, wouldn't you, that getting hit forty-five times in the neck with a blunt axe would qualify you to join the Headless Hunt, no?" He took several deep breaths and then said, in a far calmer tone, "And what's bothering you? Something I can-" The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a high-pitched mewling. Nia looked down and found herself gazing at Mrs. Norris. "You'd better get out of here," said Nick quickly. "Filch isn't in a good mood, he's got the flu."

Nia backed away from the accusing stare of Mrs. Norris, but not quickly enough. Argus Filch burst suddenly through a tapestry to her right, his nose unusually purple.

"Filth!" he shouted, his eyes popping alarmingly as he pointed at the muddy puddle that had dripped from her Quidditch robes. "Mess and muck everywhere! I've had enough of it! Follow me, Potter!"

Nia waved a gloomy good-bye to Nearly Headless Nick and followed Filch back downstairs. She had never been inside Filch's office before; it was a place most students avoided. The room was dingy and windowless and a faint smell of fried fish lingered about the place. Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and retrieved a large roll of parchment from a drawer and stretched it out in front of him, dipping his long black quill into the ink pot.

"Name... Eugenia Potter. Crime..."

"It was only a bit of mud!" said Nia.

"It's only a bit of mud to you, but to me it's an extra hour scrubbing!" shouted Filch. But as he lowered his quill, there was a great _BANG!_ on the ceiling of the office, which made the oil lamp rattle. "PEEVES!" he roared, and without a backward glance at Nia, he ran flat-footed from the office, Mrs. Norris streaking alongside him.

Thinking that she should probably wait for Filch to come back, she sank into a chair. There was only one thing on the desk apart from his half-completed form: a large, glossy, purple envelope. Nia picked up the envelope and read: _Kwikspell A Correspondence Course in Beginners' Magic._

Intrigued, she flicked the envelope open and pulled out the sheaf of parchment inside. _Feel out of step in the world of modern magic? Find yourself making excuses not to perform simple spells? There is an answer! Kwikspell is an all-new, fail-safe, quick-result, easy-learn course. Hundreds of witches and wizards have benefited from the Kwikspell method!_

Shuffling footsteps outside told her Filch was coming back. Stuffing the parchment back into the envelope, Nia threw it back onto the desk just as the door opened.

Filch was looking triumphant. His eyes fell on Nia and then darted to the Kwikspell envelope, which, Nia realized too late, was lying two feet away from where it had started. Filch's pasty face went brick red. Nia braced herself for a tidal wave of fury. Filch hobbled across to his desk and snatched up the envelope.

"Have you... did you read...?" he sputtered.

"No," she lied.

Filch's knobbly hands were twisting together. "If I thought you'd read my private... not that it's mine... for a friend..." Nia was staring at him, alarmed; Filch had never looked madder. His eyes were popping. "Very well... go. And don't breathe a word. Go!"

Amazed at her luck, Nia sped out of the office, up the corridor, and back upstairs.


	19. chapter eighteen

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part VI — _the chamber of secrets_

* * *

Halloween arrived and the school was happily anticipating the Halloween feast. The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid's vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment.

Nia, Ronnie and Hugo had a good time, laughing with their friends and filling their bellies with good food. When they couldn't eat anymore and decided to head back toward the Gryffindor common room, hurrying by the passageway full of black candles, Nia heard it.

 _"...rip... tear... kill..."_

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice she had heard in Lockhart's office. She stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all her might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

"Nia, what're you...?"

"It's that voice again!"

 _"...so hungry... for so long..."_

"Listen!" said Nia urgently, and Ronnie and Hugo froze, watching her.

 _"...kill... time to kill..."_

The voice was growing fainter. Nia was sure it was moving away, moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped her as she stared at the dark ceiling; how could it be moving upward? She began to run, up the stairs. She sprinted up the marble staircase to the first floor and strained her ears. Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, she heard the voice.

 _"...I smell blood... I SMELL BLOOD!"_

"It's going to kill someone!" Nia shouted, and ran up the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over her own pounding footsteps. She hurtled around the whole of the second floor, Ronnie and Hugo panting behind her, not stopping until they turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

"Nia, what was that all about?" said Ronnie, wiping sweat off her face. "I couldn't hear anything..."

But Hugo gave a sudden gasp, pointing down the corridor. Something was shining on the wall ahead. They approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches: _the chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware._

"What's that thing hanging underneath?" said Ronnie, a slight quiver in her voice.

As they edged nearer, Nia almost slipped; there was a large puddle of water on the floor. They inched toward the message, eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath it. All three of them realized what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash.

Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, they didn't move. Then Ronnie said, "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we try and help—" Nia began awkwardly.

"Trust me," said Ronnie. "We don't want to be found here."

But it was too late. A rumble, as though of distant thunder, told them that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where they stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were crashing into the passage from both ends.

The chatter, the bustle, the noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Daenerys Malfoy. She had pushed to the front of the crowd, her cold eyes alive, her usually bloodless face flushed, as she grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror. "My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Nia.

"You!" he screeched. " You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll—"

"Argus!" Atlas Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, she had swept past Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. "Come with me, Argus," she said to Filch. "You, too, Miss Potter, Miss Weasley, Mr Granger."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. "My office is nearest, Headmistress. Please feel free—"

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Atlas.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office, he lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Atlas was looking at her closely, her long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, and Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her, probably the Transmogrifian Torture..." Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs. He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under her breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with her wand but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"...I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart, "a series of attacks, the full story's in my autobiography..."

At last Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," she said softly. "She has been Petrified." ("Ah! I thought so!" said Lockhart). "But how, I cannot say."

"Ask her!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tear stained face to Nia.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "it would take Dark Magic of the most advanced—"

"She did it, she did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what she wrote on the wall! She found... in my office... she knows I'm a..." Filch's face worked horribly. "She knows I'm a Squib!"

"I never touched Mrs. Norris!" Nia said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at her.

"If I might speak, Headmistress," said Snape from the shadows. "Potter and her friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But why was she in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't she at the Halloween feast?"

Nia, Ronnie and Hugo all launched into an explanation about the deathday party.

"But why not join the feast afterward?" said Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight. "Why go up to that corridor?"

Ronnie and Hugo looked at Nia. Her heart was thumping very fast. "We were tired and wanted to go to bed," she said.

"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face. "I suggest, Headmistress, that Potter is not being entirely truthful. I personally feel she should be taken off the Gryffindor Quidditch team until she is ready to be honest."

"Really, Severus," said Professor McGonagall sharply, "I see no reason to stop the girl playing Quidditch. There is no evidence at all that Potter has done anything wrong."

Dumbledore was giving Nia a searching look. "Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," she said firmly.

Snape looked furious.

So did Filch.

"My cat has been Petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Mrs. Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times."

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe I am the Potions master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo.

They went, as quickly as they could without actually running. When they were a floor up from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.

"D'you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?" Nia asked.

"No," said Ronnie, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

"You do believe me, don't you?"

"Course I do," said Ronnie quickly. "But... you must admit it's weird..."

"I know it's weird," said Nia. "The whole thing's weird. And what on earth's a Squib?"

To her surprise, Ronnie stifled a snigger. "Sorry. It's not funny really... but as it's Filch," she said. "A Squib is someone who was born into a wizarding family but hasn't got any magic powers. Kind of the opposite of Muggle-born wizards, but Squibs are quite unusual."

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Nia. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame us for something else."

* * *

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Nia had seen Filch scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' and 'looking happy.'

Nadine Longbottom seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris's fate. According to Hugo, she was a great animal lover.

"But you haven't really got to know Mrs. Norris," Ronnie told her at breakfast. "Honestly, we're much better off without her." Nadine's lip trembled. "And anyway, they'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time."

The attack had also had an effect on Hugo. It was quite usual for him to spend a lot of time reading, but he was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Nia and Ronnie get much response from him when they asked what he was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Nia had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made her stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried lunch, she went upstairs to meet Ronnie in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward her. Justin caught sight of her, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.

Ronnie was at the back of the library, measuring her History of Magic homework. "I don't believe it, I'm still eight inches short," she said furiously, letting go of her parchment, which sprang back into a roll. "Hugo's done four feet seven inches and his writing's tiny."

Nia told her about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from her.

"Dunno why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Ronnie, scribbling away, making her writing as large as possible.

Hugo emerged from between the bookshelves. "All the copies of 'Hogwarts, A History' have been taken out," he said, outraged. "I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Why do you want it?" asked Nia.

"The same reason everyone else wants it," he said, "to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets."

"What's that?"

"That's just it. I can't remember," said Hugo.

"Hey, let me read your composition," said Ronnie desperately, checking her watch.

"No, I won't," said Hugo, suddenly severe. "You've had ten days to finish it-"

"I only need another two inches, come on—"

The bell rang. Ronnie and Hugo led the way to class, bickering.

History of Magic was the dullest subject on their schedule and today was as boring as ever. Professor Binns opened his notes and began to read in a flat drone until nearly everyone in the class was in a deep stupor. He had been speaking for half an hour when Hugo put up his hand.

Professor Binns looked amazed. "Mr... er...?"

"Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets," Hugo said in a clear voice.

Dean Thomas, who had been gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Nadine Longbottom's elbow slipped off her desk.

Professor Binns blinked. "My subject is History of Magic," he said in his dry voice. "I deal with facts not myths and legends. Now, in September of that year—" He stuttered to a halt. Hugo's hand was waving in the air again. "Mr. Grant?"

"Sir, don't legends always have a basis in fact?"

Professor Binns was looking at Hugo in such amazement, Nia was sure no student had ever interrupted him before, alive or dead. "Well... yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very sensational, even ludicrous tale—"

But the whole class was now hanging on Professor Binns's every word; he seemed completely thrown by such an unusual show of interest.

"Oh, very well," he said. "Let me see... the Chamber of Secrets... You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."

He paused, gazed blearily around the room, and continued.

"For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school."

Professor Binns paused again, pursing his lips.

"Reliable historical sources tell us this much," he said. "But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin would've sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic."

There was silence as he finished. There was unease in the air as everyone continued to watch him, hoping for more. Professor Binns looked faintly annoyed.

"The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course," he said. "Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible."

Hugo's hand was back in the air. "Sir... what exactly do you mean by the horror within' the Chamber?"

"That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control," said Professor Binns in his dry, reedy voice. The class exchanged nervous looks. "I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster. It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!"

And within five minutes, the class had sunk back into its usual torpor.

"I always knew Salazar Slytherin was a twisted old loony," Ronnie told Nia and Hugo after class. "But I never knew he started all this pure-blood stuff. I wouldn't be in his house if you paid me. Honestly, if the Sorting Hat had tried to put me in Slytherin, I'd've got the train straight back home..."

Nia's stomach had just dropped unpleasantly as she remembered how the Sorting Hat had tried to put her in Slytherin.

"Hiya, Nia!" someone shouted.

"Hullo, Casey," said Nia automatically.

"Nia... Nia... a boy in my class has been saying you're—"

But Casey was so small she couldn't fight against the tide of people bearing her toward the Great Hall; they heard her squeak, "See you, Nia!" and she was gone.

"What's a boy in her class saying about you?" Hugo wondered.

"That I'm Slytherin's heir, I expect," said Nia, her stomach dropping another inch or so as she suddenly remembered the way Justin Finch-Fletchley had run away from her.

"People here'll believe anything," said Ronnie in disgust. "D'you really think there's a Chamber of Secrets?"

"I don't know," said Hugo, frowning. "Dumbledore couldn't cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be... human."

As he spoke, they turned a corner and found themselves at the end of the very corridor where the attack had happened. They stopped and looked. The corridor was deserted.

"Can't hurt to have a poke around," said Nia making up her mind, and they went ahead searching for clues.


	20. chapter nineteen

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part VII — _moaning myrtle_

* * *

"Come and look at this!" said Hugo.

Nia crossed to the window next to the message on the wall. Hugo was pointing at the topmost pane, where around twenty spiders were scuttling, apparently fighting to get through a small crack.

"Have you ever seen spiders act like that?" he asked.

"No," said Nia. "Ronnie?" She looked over her shoulder. Ronnie was standing well back and seemed to be fighting the impulse to run. "What?"

"I... I don't like... spiders," she said tensely.

"I never knew that," said Hugo, interested.

"Remember all that water on the floor?" asked Nia. "Where did that come from?"

"It was about here," said Hugo, pointing. "Level with this door." He reached for the brass doorknob but suddenly stopped. "Can't go in there. That's a girls' toilet."

"Oh, there won't be anyone in there," said Ronnie. "That's Moaning Myrtle's place."

"Who?"

"She's a ghost who haunts the toilet," said Nia. "We all try to avoid this bathroom. It's really hard to pee with her crying in the next stall."

Ignoring the large OUT OF ORDER sign, they went in. It was the gloomiest, most depressing bathroom. The wooden doors to the stalls were flaking and scratched and one of them was dangling off its hinges.

Ronnie set off toward the end stall and said, "Hello, Myrtle, how are you?"

Moaning Myrtle was floating above the tank of the toilet, picking a spot on her chin. "This is a girls' bathroom," she said, eyeing Hugo suspiciously.

"We know," Nia agreed. "Hugo just wanted to see how er... nice it is in here."

"Ask her if she saw anything," Hugo mouthed at Ronnie.

"What are you whispering?" said Myrtle, staring at him.

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"I wish people would stop talking behind my back!" said Myrtle, in a voice choked with tears. "I do have feelings, you know, even if I am dead! My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!"

"We wanted to ask you if you've seen anything funny lately," said Ronnie quickly. "Because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween."

"Did you see anyone near here that night?" said Nia.

"I wasn't paying attention," said Myrtle dramatically. "Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to kill myself."

"But you're already dead," said Ronnie helpfully.

Myrtle gave a tragic sob, rose up in the air, turned over, and dived headfirst into the toilet, splashing water all over them and vanishing from sight.

Hugo stood with his mouth open, but Ronnie shrugged wearily and said, "Honestly, that was almost cheerful for Myrtle."

They got out of there and a loud voice made all three of them jump.

"RONNIE!" Percy Weasley had stopped dead at the head of the stairs, prefect badge agleam, an expression of complete shock on his face. "What are you doing in a girls' bathroom with a boy?"

"Just having a look around," Ronnie shrugged. "Clues, you know—"

Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Nia forcefully of Mrs. Weasley.

"Get away from there! Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner—"

"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ronnie hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "We never laid a finger on that cat!"

"That's what I've been telling people," said Percy fiercely, "but it's not my job keeping you out of trouble, you know."

"Yeah, seeing you don't care about me," said Ronnie, whose ears were now reddening. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy—"

"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!" And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ronnie's ears.

Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Ronnie was still in a very bad temper and accidentally ignited her homework parchment with her broken wand.

"Who can it be, though?" said Hugo suddenly, in a quiet voice, as though continuing a conversation they had just been having. "Who'd want to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwart's?"

"Let's think," said Ronnie in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who thinks Muggle-borns are scum?"

"If you're talking about Malfoy—"

"Of course I am!" said Ronnie.

"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hugo skeptically.

"Look at her family," said Nia. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin."

"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ronnie.

"But could we prove it?" said Nia.

"Maybe," said Hugo slowly. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect..."

"Can you just tell us already?" said Ronnie irritably.

"All right," said Hugo coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us. All we'd need would be some Polyjuice Potion."

"What's that?" said Ronnie and Nia together.

"Snape mentioned it in class a few weeks ago. It transforms you into somebody else. We could change into three of the Slytherins. And if it is her, she's probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now."

"What if we were stuck looking like three of the Slytherins forever?" asked Ronnie.

"It wears off after a while," said Hugo, waving his hand impatiently. "But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it's bound to be in the Restricted Section of the library."

"Hard to see why we'd want the book, really," said Ronnie, "if we weren't going to try and make one of the potions."

"I think," said Hugo, "that if we made it sound as though we were just interested in the theory, we might stand a chance."

"Oh, come on, no teacher's going to fall for that," said Ronnie. "They'd have to be really thick."

Nia looked at them. "I think I know just the guy."

* * *

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class, sticking instead so simply tell tales of his adventurous life, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits.

When the bell rang, the class began to leave but Nia, Ronnie and Hugo stayed behind.

Nia approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand. "Er... Professor Lockhart? I wanted to... to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading. But it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it. I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in _Gadding with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venoms."

"Ah, _Gadding with Ghouls!_ " said Lockhart, taking the note from her and smiling widely. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yes," Nia said eagerly. "So clever."

"Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving Eugenia Potter a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Nia. "Oh, and tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin. I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask."

"I won't," Nia said and then hurried off after Ronnie and Hugo. "I don't believe it," she said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted."

"That's because he's a brainless git," said Ronnie as they half ran toward the library.

Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture. _"Moste Potente Potions?"_ she repeated suspiciously. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hugo put it carefully into his bag and they left.

Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

Hugo opened _Moste Potente Potions_ carefully, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. "Here it is," he said excitedly as he found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass... they're in the student store-cupboard, but powdered horn of a bicorn... don't know where we're going to get that or shredded skin of a boomslang. And, of course, a bit of whoever we want to change into."

"Excuse me?" said Ronnie sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with—"

Hugo continued as though he hadn't heard her. "We don't have to worry about that yet."

Ronnie turned, speechless, to Nia, who had another worry.

"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hugo? What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores?"

Hugo shut the book with a snap. "Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine. _I_ don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in."

"I never thought Id see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules," said Ronnie.

"How long will it take to make, anyway?" asked Nia.

Hugo, looking happier, turned to the book again. "Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients."

"A month?" said Ronnie. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!"

"But it's the best plan we've got," he said.

* * *

Nia woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. She was nervous at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. She went down to breakfast early, where she found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much.

As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers—"

"Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August"

"—and we're going to make them rue the day they let that Malfoy buy her way onto their team." Wood turned to Nia."It'll be down to you, Eugenia, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying because we've got to win today."

"So no pressure, Nia," said Fred, winking at her.

As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.

"On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Nia flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch.

"All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Daenerys, shooting underneath her as though to show off the speed of her broom.

Nia had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward her; she avoided it so narrowly that she felt it ruffle her hair as it passed.

"Close one, Nia!" said George, streaking past her with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. She saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Nia again.

She dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Daenerys. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Nia's head.

Nia put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. She could hear the Bludger whistling along behind her. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible...

Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Nia ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course. "Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Nia, the Bludger pelted after her once more and Nia was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; Nia felt heavy drops fall onto her face. She didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until she heard Lee Jordan say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero."

Sure someone had tampered with the Bludger, Fred called a time out.

"What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Nia, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it, it won't leave her alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game."

"But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously.

"Listen," said Nia, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with it."

"Don't be crazy," said Fred. "It'll take your head off."

Wood was looking from Nia to the Weasleys.

"Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let her deal with that thing on her own."

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Nia. "Come on, Oliver, I can do it."

"This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. " _'Get the Snitch or die trying,_ ' what a stupid thing to tell her—"

Madam Hooch joined them. "Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood.

Wood looked at the determined look on Nia's face. "All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Eugenia, leave her alone. She can do it."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Nia kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind her. Higher and higher she climbed; she looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. She could hear laughter from the crowd, but the Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as she could.

A whistling in her ear told her the Bludger had just missed her again; she turned right over and sped in the opposite direction.

"Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Daenerys as Nia was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair. And then, glaring back at Daenerys in hatred, Nia saw it: the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Daenerys' left ear and she, busy laughing, hadn't seen it.

For an agonizing moment, Nia hung in midair considering her options.

 _WHAM._

She had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger hit her at last, smashing into her elbow, and Nia felt her arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain, she slid sideways on her rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack and she swerved out of the way.

Through a haze of rain and pain, Nia dived for the shimmering, sneering face below her and saw its eyes widen with fear: Daenerys thought Nia was attacking her.

"What the...?" she gasped, careening out of her way.

Nia took her remaining hand off her broom and made a wild snatch; she felt her fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with her legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as she headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud she hit the mud and rolled off her broom. Her arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, she heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting.

And she fainted.

She came around, rain falling on her face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over her. She saw a glitter of teeth.

"Not to worry," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Nia. "Wait..." She tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible.

"Lie back, Nia," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times."

"Great capture, Nia, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning.

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves. He twirled his wand and a second later a strange and unpleasant sensation started at Nia's shoulder and spread all the way down to her fingertips. It felt as though her arm was being deflated. People above her gasped.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken."

"Broken?" exclaimed Ronnie from somewhere in the left. "There's no bones left."

"Much more flexible, though," said Lockhart. "Just... toddle up to the hospital wing. Ah, Miss Weasley, Mr Granger, would you escort her?"


	21. chapter twenty

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part VIII — _the second attack_

* * *

Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased. "You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second, but growing them back—"

"You will be able to, won't you?" said Nia desperately.

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing her a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night..."

Hugo waited outside the curtain drawn around Nia's bed while Ronnie helped her into her pajamas.

Hugo and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro. "You're in for a rough night, Potter," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to her. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business."

"We won, though," said Ronnie when they were left alone. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... she looked ready to kill..."

"I want to know how she fixed that Bludger," said Hugo darkly. "We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask her when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion."

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team arrived to see Nia. "Unbelievable flying," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of her head and not noticing."

They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Nia's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This girl needs rest, she's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!" And Nia was left alone, with nothing to distract her from the stabbing pains in her limp arm.

Hours and hours later, she woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and, with a thrill of horror, realized that someone was sponging her forehead in the dark.

"Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at her through the darkness. "Eugenia Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Eugenia Potter. Ah, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Eugenia Potter go back home when she missed the train?"

Nia heaved herself up on her pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away. "It was you?" she said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through?"

"Indeed yes," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Eugenia Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward but Dobby didn't care for he thought Eugenia Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Eugenia Potter would get to school another way!"

"You nearly got Ronnie and me expelled," she said fiercely. "You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

Dobby smiled weakly. "Dobby is used to death threats. Dobby gets them five times a day at home." He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore.

"Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" Nia asked curiously.

"This?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock for then he would be free to leave their house forever. Now, Eugenia Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make—"

"Your Bludger?" said Nia, anger rising once more. "You made that Bludger try and kill me?"

"Not kill you, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Eugenia Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here! Dobby only wanted Eugenia Potter hurt enough to be sent home!"

"Oh, is that all?" said Nia angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Eugenia Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned. "If she knew what she means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of her powers! We house-elves were treated like vermin! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, but mostly life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Eugenia Potter survived, and the Red Lady's power was broken, and it was a new dawn and Eugenia Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Eugenia Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more."

Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed a water jug from the bedside table and cracked it over his own head, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby..."

"So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Nia whispered. "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!" She seized the elf's bony wrist.

"Ah, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Eugenia Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, 'tis too dangerous—"

"Who is it, Dobby?" Nia said. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Eugenia Potter must save herself, she must, she—" Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears were footsteps coming down the passageway outside. "Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack and he vanished.

Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory. She was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Nia's bed out of sight. Nia lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. She heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed.

"Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found her on the stairs."

"We think she was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter," said Professor McGonagall.

Nia's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, she raised herself a few inches so she could look at the statue on the bed. It was Casey Creevey. Her eyes were wide and her hands were stuck up in front of her, holding her camera.

"Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey.

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Casey's rigid grip.

"You don't think she managed to get a picture of her attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagerly.

Dumbledore didn't answer. She opened the back of the camera.

"Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey.

A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera and Nia caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic.

"Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..."

"What does this mean, Atlas?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently.

"It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again."

Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore. "But, Atlas... surely... who?"

"The question is not who," said Dumbledore, her eyes on Casey. "The question is, how..."

* * *

Nia woke up on Sunday morning to find the dormitory blazing with winter sunlight and her arm reboned but very stiff. She sat up quickly and looked over at Casey's bed, but it had been blocked from view by high curtains. After Madam Pomfrey told her she could leave, she dressed as quickly as she could and hurried off to Gryffindor Tower, desperate to tell Ronnie and Hugo about Casey and Dobby, but they weren't there so she left to look for them.

As she passed the library, Percy Weasley strolled out of it, looking in far better spirits than last time they'd met.

"Oh, hello, Eugenia," he said. "Excellent flying yesterday. Gryffindor has just taken the lead for the House Cup; you earned fifty points!"

"You haven't seen Ronnie or Hugo, have you?" said Nia.

"No, I haven't," said Percy, his smile fading. "I hope they're not in another bathroom..."

Nia forced a laugh, watched Percy walk out of sight, and then headed straight for Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. After making sure that neither Filch nor any prefects were around, she opened the door and heard their voices coming from a locked stall.

"It's me," she said, closing the door behind her. There was a clunk, a splash, and a gasp from within the stall and she saw Hugo's eye peering through the keyhole.

"Nia!" he said. "You gave us such a fright. Come in. How's your arm?"

"Fine," said Nia, squeezing into the stall. An old cauldron was perched on the toilet, and a crackling from under the rim told Nia they had lit a fire beneath it.

"We'd've come to meet you, but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion," Ronnie explained. "We've decided this is the safest place to hide it."

Nia started to tell them about Casey, but Hugo interrupted. "We already know... we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That's why we decided we'd better get started."

"The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better," snarled Ronnie.

"There's something else," said Nia. "Dobby came to visit me in the middle of the night." She told them everything.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hugo said.

"This settles it," said Ronnie in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told Daenerys how to do it. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."

"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hugo. "Or maybe it can disguise itself..."

Ronnie glanced at Nia. "So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm. You know what? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life he's going to kill you."

* * *

The news that Casey Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning. The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion. Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Even Nadine Longbottom, a pure-blood, bought a few.

In the second week of December Professor McGonagall came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Nia, Ronnie, and Hugo signed her list; they had heard that Malfoy was staying, which struck them as very suspicious.

They urgently needed to finish the potion, but the only place to get the missing ingredients was Snape's private stores.

"What we need," said Hugo, "is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape's office and take what we need. I think I'd better do the actual stealing. You two will be expelled if you get into any more trouble, and I've got a clean record. So all you need to do is cause enough mayhem to keep Snape busy for five minutes or so."

Potions lessons took place in one of the large dungeons. As Snape walked off to bully Nadine, Nia ducked swiftly down behind her cauldron, pulled one of Fred's Filibuster fireworks out of her pocket, and gave it a quick prod with her wand. The firework began to fizz and sputter. She straightened up, took aim, and lobbed it into the air; it landed right on target in Goyle's cauldron.

Goyle's potion exploded, showering the whole class. People shrieked as splashes of the Swelling Solution hit them. Malfoy got a faceful and her nose began to swell like a balloon; Goyle blundered around, her hands over her eyes, which had expanded to the size of a dinner plate. Snape was trying to restore calm and find out what had happened. Through the confusion, Hugo slip quietly into Snape's office.

"Silence! SILENCE!" Snape roared. "Anyone who has been splashed, come here for a Deflating Draft... when I find out who did this..."

Nia tried not to laugh as she watched Malfoy hurry forward, her head drooping with the weight of a nose like a small melon. As half the class lumbered up to Snape's desk, Hugo slide back into the dungeon, the front of his robes bulging.

When everyone had taken a swig of antidote and the various swellings had subsided, Snape swept over to Goyle's cauldron and scooped out the twisted black remains of the firework. There was a sudden hush.

"If I ever find out who threw this," Snape whispered, "I shall make sure that person is expelled."

Nia arranged her face into what she hoped was a puzzled expression. Snape was looking right at her, and the bell that rang ten minutes later could not have been more welcome.

"He knew it was me," she told Ronnie and Hugo as they hurried back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "I could tell."

Hugo threw the new ingredients into the cauldron and began to stir feverishly. "It'll be ready in two weeks," he said happily.

"Snape can't prove it was you," said Ronnie reassuringly. "What can he do?"

"Knowing Snape, something foul," said Nia as the potion frothed and bubbled.

A week later, they were walking across the entrance hall when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board, reading a piece of parchment that had just been pinned up. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over, looking excited.

"They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days..."

At eight o'clock that evening everyone hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall. Most of the school seemed to be packed around it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" said Hugo as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Someone told me Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young..."

"As long as it's not-" Nia began, but she ended on a groan: Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He has sportingly agreed to help with a short demonstration. I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him. Never fear."

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

On the count of three, both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: "Expelliarmus!" There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: he flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Daenerys and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape..." he said. "But if you don't mind me saying, it was obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy."

Snape was looking murderous. "Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor."

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape. Let's have a volunteer pair. Eugenia, Veronica, how about you?"

"Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells," said Snape. "We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox. Might I suggest someone from my own house? Malfoy, perhaps?"

Daenerys strutted over, smirking. Nia followed her onto the platform.

"Well, good luck, Eugenia," Lockhart told her. "When Daenerys points her wand at you, you do this." He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops... my wand is a little overexcited..."

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in her ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Nia looked up nervously at Lockhart and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

But Lockhart wasn't listening. "Wands at the ready. On the count of three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent. Only to disarm. We don't want any accidents here."

Nia and Daenerys barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.


	22. chapter twenty-one

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part IX — _parselmouth_

* * *

Lockhart began to count but Daenerys had already started on two: her spell hit Nia so hard she felt as though she'd been hit over the head with a saucepan. She stumbled, but everything still seemed to be working, and wasting no more time, she pointed her wand straight at Daenerys and shouted, _"Rictusempra!"_

A jet of silver light hit Daenerys in the stomach and she doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm only!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Daenerys, gasping for breath, pointed her wand at Nia's knees and bellowed, _"Serpensortia!"_ The end of her wand exploded. Nia watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily. "I'll get rid of it..."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Nia went forward and shouted stupidly at the snake, "Leave him alone!", and miraculously, inexplicably, the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Nia. Nia felt the fear drain out of her. She knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now. She looked up at Justin expecting to see him looking relieved, but he seemed angry and scared.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he shouted, and before Nia could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Nia in an unexpected way: it was a shrewd and calculating look, and Nia didn't like it. Then she felt a tugging on the back of her robes.

"Come on," said Ronnie's voice in her ear. "Move... come on..." Ronnie steered her out of the hall, Hugo hurrying alongside them. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. When they were alone, Ronnie said, "You're a _Parselmouth_. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I'm a what?"

"A _Parselmouth_! You can talk to snakes!"

"I know," said Nia. "I mean, I accidentally set a boa constrictor on my cousin at the zoo once, but I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no they can't," said Ronnie.

"It's not a very common gift," said Hugo. "Nia, this is bad."

"What's bad? If I hadn't told that snake not to attack Justin—"

"Oh, that's what you said to it?"

"What d'you mean? You were there, you heard me—"

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," said Ronnie. "Snake language. You could have been saying anything, no wonder Justin panicked, you sounded like you were egging the snake on or something..."

Nia gaped at her. "I spoke a different language? But... I didn't realize. How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Ronnie shook her head.

"There's a reason the symbol of Slytherin house is a serpent," said Hugo. "Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. He could talk to snakes too."

"Exactly," said Ronnie. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-granddaughter or something."

"But I'm not," said Nia, with a panic she couldn't quite explain.

"You'll find that hard to prove," said Hugo. "He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be."

* * *

The next morning, Nia was determined to find Justin and explain that she'd been calling the snake off, not egging it on, which any fool should have realized.

The castle was darker than it usually was in daytime because of the thick, swirling gray snow at every window. A group of the Hufflepuffs were sitting at the back of the library. Nia was walking toward them when something of what they were saying met her ears, and she paused to listen.

"So anyway," a stout boy was saying, "I told Justin to hide up in our dormitory. I mean to say, if Potter's marked him down as her next victim, it's best if he keeps a low profile for a while. Of course, Justin's been waiting for something like this to happen ever since he let slip to Potter he was Muggle-born. That's not the kind of thing you bandy about with Slytherin's heir on the loose, is it?"

"You definitely think it is Potter, then, Ernie?" said a girl with blonde pigtails anxiously.

"Hannah," said the stout boy solemnly, "she's a Parselmouth. Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard. Have you ever heard of a decent one who could talk to snakes? They called Slytherin himself Serpent-tongue."

There was some heavy murmuring at this, and Ernie went on, "Remember what was written on the wall? _Enemies of the Heir, Beware._ Potter had some sort of run-in with Filch. Next thing we know, Flich's cat's attacked. That first year, Creevey, was annoying Potter with her photographs. Next thing we know she's been attacked, too."

"She always seems so nice, though," said Hannah uncertainly, "and, well, she's the one who made You-Know-Who disappear."

Ernie lowered his voice mysteriously. "No one knows how she survived that. She was only a baby when it happened. Only a really powerful Dark witch could have survived a curse like that. That's probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill her in the first place. Didn't want another Dark One competing with her."

Clearing her throat loudly, Nia stepped out from behind the bookshelves. Every one of the Hufflepuffs looked as though they had been petrified by the sight of her.

"Hello," she said. "I'm looking for Justin Finch-Fletchley."

The Hufflepuffs's worst fears had clearly been confirmed.

"What do you want with him?" said Ernie in a quavering voice.

"I wanted to tell him what really happened with that snake at the Dueling Club," said Nia.

"We were all there. We saw what happened."

"Then you noticed that after I spoke to it, the snake backed off?"

"All I saw," said Ernie stubbornly, "was you speaking Parseltongue and chasing the snake toward Justin."

"I didn't chase it at him!" Nia said. "It didn't even touch him!"

"It was a very near miss," said Ernie. "And in case you're getting ideas," he added hastily, "I might tell you that you can trace my family back through nine generations of witches and warlocks and my blood's as pure as anyone's—"

"I don't care what sort of blood you've got!" Nia turned on her heel and stormed out of the library, earning herself a reproving glare from Madam Pince.

She ended up walking into something very large and solid, which knocked her backward onto the floor.

"Oh, hello, Hagrid."

"All righ', Nia?" he said. A dead rooster was hanging from one of his massive, gloved hands.

"What're you doing in here?"

He held up the limp rooster. "Second one killed this term," he explained. "An' I need the Headmistress' permission ter put a charm around the hen coop." He peered more closely at her. "Yeh sure yeh're all righ'? Yeh look all hot an' bothered—"

"It's nothing," said Nia. "I'd better get going, Hagrid. I have class." She walked off, her mind still full of what Ernie had said about her. She was halfway down the passage when she tripped headlong over something lying on the floor. She turned to squint at what she'd fallen over and felt as though her stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor, rigid and cold, a look of shock frozen on his face, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. And that wasn't all. Next to him was another figure: Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Justin's.

Nia got to her feet, her breathing fast and shallow, her heart doing a kind of drumroll against her ribs. She looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor and saw a line of spiders scuttling as fast as they could away from the bodies.

She could run, and no one would ever know she had been there. But she couldn't just leave them lying here... She had to get help. As she stood there, panicking, a door right next to her opened with a bang and Peeves came shooting out.

"Why, it's potty wee Potter!" he cackled. "What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking-" He stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. Professor McGonagall came running. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat than Ernie arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" he yelled, pointing his finger dramatically at Nia.

"That will do, Macmillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply. She ordered everyone to leave which left her and Nia alone together. "This way, Potter," she said.

"Professor, I swear I didn't—"

"This is out of my hands, Potter," said Professor McGonagall curtly and Nia was left with no choice but to follow her.

They marched in silence around a corner until Professor McGonagall stopped before a large and extremely ugly stone gargoyle.

 _"Lemon drop!"_ she said. This was evidently a password, because the gargoyle sprang suddenly to life and hopped aside as the wall behind it split in two. Behind the wall was a spiral staircase that was moving smoothly upward, like an escalator. As they stepped onto it, the wall closed behind them. They rose upward in circles, higher and higher, until at last, Nia saw a gleaming oak door ahead.

They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told her to wait and left her there, alone.

Nia looked around. It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. Sitting on a shelf behind the desk was the Sorting Hat.

 _"Bee in your bonnet, Miss Potter?"_ it asked softly.

"Uh... I was just wondering..." Nia muttered.

 _"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House,"_ said the hat smartly. _"Yes... you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before... you would have done well in Slytherin."_

Nia's stomach plummeted. "You're wrong," she said and the hat was quiet. Nia backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind her made her wheel around.

Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Nia was thinking it looked very ill and next thing the bird burst into flames. She yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. The bird gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smouldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Atlas Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.

"Professor," Nia gasped. "Your bird... I couldn't do anything... it just caught fire-"

To her astonishment, Atlas smiled. "About time, too," she said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on." At the stunned look on Nia's face, she explained: "Fawkes is a phoenix, Nia. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."

Nia looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes.

"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Atlas. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."

Before Nia could speak another word, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.

"It wasn' Nia, Professor Dumbledore!" he said urgently. "I was talkin' ter her seconds before that kid was found, she never had time, ma'am—" Atlas tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, "—it can't've bin her, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to."

"Hagrid, I—"

"...ma'am, I know Nia never..."

"Hagrid!" said Atlas loudly. "I do not think that Eugenia attacked those people."

"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmistress." And he stomped out looking embarrassed.

"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Nia repeated hopefully.

"No, I don't," said Atlas, though her face was somber. "But I must ask you, Nia, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," she said gently. "Anything at all."

Nia didn't know what to say. She thought of the Polyjuice Potion, and of the disembodied voice she had heard twice, and about what everyone was saying about her, but in the end she just said: "No, ma'am."

* * *

The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? What terrible power could harm someone who was already dead?

"Almost everyone decided to go home for Christmas," Ronnie told Nia and Hugo. "At this rate, we'll be the only ones left. Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."

But Nia was glad that most people were leaving. She was tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as she passed.

Fred and George, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of her down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heiress of Slytherin, seriously evil witch coming through..."

Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Nia's in a hurry."

"Yeah, she's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with her fanged servant," said George, chortling.

Nia didn't mind; it made her feel better that Fred and George, at least, thought the idea of her being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Daenerys, who looked increasingly sour each time she saw them at it.

"It's because she's bursting to say it's really her," said Ronnie knowingly. "You're getting all the credit for her dirty work."

"Not for long," said Hugo in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Nia enjoyed the fact that she, Hugo, and the Weasleys had the run of Gryffindor Tower. Fred and George had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room.

On Christmas morning, Hugo caught Nia and Ronnie alone to tell them the potion was ready.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said, shifting Scabbers the rat so that he could sit down beside Ronnie. "We still need a bit of the people you're changing into and, obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoys best friends, she'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating her. Don't worry," he told them. He held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've got it all worked out. I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."

Nia and Ronnie looked incredulously at each other.

"Hugo, I don't think—"

"That could go seriously wrong—"

"The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," he said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

"Fine," said Nia. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

"I've already got mine!" he said brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of his pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "You know Blaze Zabini? I found a hair on his backpack. He's gone home for Christmas, so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."

"I never heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong," said Ronnie.

But to her and Nia's utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Hugo had said. They lurked in the deserted entrance hall after dinner, waiting for Victoria and Giselle. Nia had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters.

Victoria gleefully pointed out the cakes to Giselle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they ate the cakes without thinking twice. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor. Nia and Ronnie dragged them into the closet across the hall and yanked out a couple of their hairs.


	23. chapter twenty-two

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part X — _polyjuice potion_

* * *

Then they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the stall in which Hugo was stirring the cauldron. Behind him, three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat. The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.

"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Hugo. "It looks like the book says it should... once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."

He ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses. Then, his hand trembling, he shook Blaise Zabini's hair out of its bottle into the first glass. Nia dropped Giselle's hair into the middle glass and Ronnie put Victoria's into the last one. The three glasses hissed and frothed.

Careful not to spill a drop, they each pick a stall.

Pinching her nose, Nia drank the potion down in two large gulps. Immediately, her insides started writhing, then a burning sensation spread rapidly from her stomach to the very ends of her fingers and toes. The skin all over her body bubbled like hot wax and before her eyes her body began to change.

And, as suddenly as it had started, everything stopped.

"Are you two okay?" Giselle's whiny voice issued from her mouth.

"Yeah," came the bored voice of Victoria in response.

They walked out of their stalls and stared at each other.

"This is unbelievable," said Ronnie. "Unbelievable."

"We'd better get going," said Nia. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is."

Ronnie, who had been gazing at her, said, "You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking." She banged on Hugo's door. "C'mon, we need to go—"

A high-pitched voice answered. "I... I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me."

"Hugo, we know Zabini's ugly, no one's going to know it's you—"

"No... really, I don't think I'll come. You two hurry up, you're wasting time—"

Nia looked at Ronnie, bewildered.

"That looks more like Goyle," said Ronnie. "That's how she looks every time a teacher asks her a question."

"Hugo, are you okay?" said Nia through the door.

"Fine. I'm fine. Just... Go on..."

"We'll meet you back here, all right?" Nia said.

She and Ronnie opened the door of the bathroom carefully, checked that the coast was clear, and set off. They went down the marble staircase. All they needed now was a Slytherin that they could follow to the Slytherin common room, but there was nobody around.

Suddenly a girl with long, curly hair emerged from the entrance.

"Excuse me," said Ronnie, hurrying up to her. "We've forgotten the way to our common room."

"I beg your pardon?" said the girl stiffly. " _Our_ common room? I'm a Ravenclaw." She walked away, looking suspiciously back at them.

Nia and Ronnie hurried down the stone steps into the darkness. The labyrinthine passages were deserted. They walked deeper and deeper under the school, not sure where to go. After a quarter of an hour, just when they were getting desperate, they heard a sudden movement ahead.

The figure was emerging from a side room. As they hurried nearer, however, their hearts sank. It wasn't a Slytherin, it was Percy.

"What're you doing down here?" said Ronnie in surprise.

Percy looked affronted. "That," he said stiffly, "is none of your business. It's Victoria Crabbe, isn't it?"

"Wh... oh, yeah," said Ronnie.

"Well, get off to your dormitories," said Percy sternly. "It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"You are," Ronnie pointed out.

"I," said Percy, drawing himself up, "am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack _me_."

A voice suddenly echoed behind Nia and Ronnie. Daenerys Malfoy was strolling toward them, and for the first time in life, Nia was pleased to see her.

"There you are," Daenerys drawled, looking at them. "Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny." She glanced witheringly at Percy. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"

Percy looked outraged. "You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!" he said. "I don't like your attitude!"

Daenerys sneered and motioned for Nia and Ronnie to follow her. They hurried after her, who said as they turned into the next passage, "That Peter Weasley—"

"Percy," Ronnie corrected her automatically.

"Whatever," said Daenerys. "I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed." She paused by a stretch of bare, damp stone wall. "What's the new password again?" she said to Nia.

"Er..."

"Oh, yeah. _Pure-blood!"_

A stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Daenerys marched through it, and Nia and Ronnie followed. The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains.

"Wait here," said Daenerys. "I'll go and get it. My father's just sent it to me—"

Wondering what she was going to show them, Nia and Ronnie sat down, doing their best to look at home. Daenerys came back a minute later, holding what looked like a newspaper clipping. She thrust it under Ronnie's nose.

"That'll give you a laugh," she said.

Nia saw Ronnie's eyes widen in shock. She read the clipping quickly, gave a very forced laugh, and handed it to Nia.

It said:

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.

Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."

"Well?" said Daenerys impatiently as Nia handed the clipping back to her. "Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha, ha," said Nia bleakly.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them," said Daenerys scornfully. "You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ronnie's face was contorted with fury.

"What's up with you, Vicky?" snapped Daenerys.

"Stomachache," Ronnie grunted.

"Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me," said Daenerys, snickering. "You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. She'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said she's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. She loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmistress would never've let slime like that Creevey in. Oh, what's the matter with you two?"

Far too late, Nia and Ronnie forced themselves to agree, but Daenerys seemed satisfied.

Clearing her throat for courage, Nia said: "You must have some idea who's behind it all..."

"You know I haven't, Giselle, how many times do I have to tell you?" snapped Daenerys. "Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing... last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time... And I hope it's Granger," she said with relish.

Ronnie was clenching her fists. Nia shot her a warning look and said, "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah... whoever it was was expelled," said Daenerys. "They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?"

"Azkaban; the wizard prison, Giselle," said Daenerys, looking at her in disbelief "Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward. Anyway, father's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week? Yeah. Luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor—"

"Oh, yeah?" said Ronnie.

Daenerys looked at her. So did Nia. Ronnie blushed. Even her hair was turning red.

Their hour was up.

They both jumped to their feet.

"Medicine for my stomach," Ronnie grunted, and without further ado they sprinted the length of the Slytherin common room, hurled themselves at the stone wall, and dashed up the passage, hoping against hope that Daenerys hadn't noticed anything.

They sprinted up the marble staircase toward Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time," Ronnie panted, closing the bathroom door behind them. "I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."

Nia hammered on the door of Hugo's stall. "We're back, come out, we've got loads to tell you—"

"Go away!" Hugo squeaked.

Nia and Ronnie looked at each other.

"What's the matter?" said Ronnie. "You must be back to normal by now, we are."

But Moaning Myrtle glided suddenly through the stall door. Nia had never seen her looking so happy.

"Ooooooh, wait till you see," she said. "It's awful—"

They heard the lock slide back and Hugo emerged. Ronnie laughed then covered her mouth with her hands. Hugo's face was covered in black fur. His eyes had turned yellow and there were long, pointed ears poking through his hair.

"It wasn't Zabini's hair on his backpack," he said. "It was cat fur. And the potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations."

"You'll be teased something dreadful," said Myrtle happily.

"It's okay," said Nia quickly. "Madam Pomfrey will take care of it."

* * *

Hugo remained in the hospital wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumor about his disappearance because everyone thought that he had been attacked. Nia and Ronnie went to visit him every evening. His spirits were improving as the hair started to disappear from his face and his eyes were turning slowly back to brown.

One night, as they left the infirmary and started up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Filch," Nia muttered as they hurried up the stairs and paused, out of sight, listening hard.

"You don't think someone else's been attacked?" said Ronnie tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined toward Flich's voice, which sounded quite hysterical. "even more work for me! Mopping all night... I'm going to Dumbledore..." His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and they heard a distant door slam.

They poked their heads around the corner. They were once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. They could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Now what's up with her?" said Ronnie.

"Let's go and see," said Nia, and they stepped through the great wash of water to the door and entered.

Moaning Myrtle was crying, if possible, louder and harder than ever before.

"What's up, Myrtle?" said Nia.

"Who's that?" glugged Myrtle miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"

"Why would I throw something at you?"

"Don't ask me," Myrtle shouted. "Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me..."

"But it can't hurt you if someone throws something at you," said Ronnie, reasonably. "I mean, it'd just go right through you, wouldn't it?"

Myrtle puffed herself up and shrieked, "Let's all throw books at Myrtle, because she can't feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head!"

"Who threw it at you, anyway?" asked Nia.

"I don't know... I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head," said Myrtle, glaring at them.

Nia found the book under the sink. It was small and thin, with a shabby black cover and was as wet as everything else in the bathroom. She picked it up off the floor and saw at once that it was a diary, and the faded year on the cover told her it was fifty years old. She opened it eagerly. On the first page she could just make out the name _T.M. Riddle_ in smudged ink.

"Hang on," said Ronnie looking over Nia's shoulder. "I know that name... T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago."

"How on earth d'you know that?" said Nia in amazement.

"Because Filch made me polish his shield about fifty times in detention," said Ronnie resentfully.

Nia peeled the wet pages apart. They were completely blank. "He never wrote in it," said Nia, disappointed.

"I wonder why someone wanted to flush it away?" said Ronnie curiously.

Nia turned to the back cover of the book and saw the printed name of a variety store on London. "He must've been Muggle-born," she said thoughtfully. "To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road..."

"Well, it's not much use to you," said Ronnie.

Nia, however, pocketed it.

* * *

Hugo left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free, at the beginning of February. Nia quickly showed him T. M. Riddle's diary and told him the story of how they had found it.

"Oooh, it might have hidden powers," he said enthusiastically.

"If it has, it's hiding them very well," said Ronnie. "Maybe it's shy."

"I wish I knew why someone tried to chuck it," said Nia. "I wouldn't mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts either."

"Could've been anything," said Ronnie. "Maybe he murdered Myrtle; that would've done everyone a favor..."

But Nia could tell from the arrested look on Hugo's face that he was thinking what she was thinking.

"What?" said Ronnie, looking from one to the other.

"Well, the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, wasn't it?" she said. "That's what Malfoy said."

"Yeah."

"And this diary is fifty years old," said Hugo, tapping it excitedly.

"So?"

"Oh, Ronnie, wake up," he snapped. "We know the person who opened the Chamber last time was expelled fifty years ago. We know T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago. Well, what if Riddle got his special award for catching the Heir of Slytherin? His diary would probably tell us everything, where the Chamber is, and how to open it, and what sort of creature lives in it. The person who's behind the attacks this time wouldn't want that lying around, would they?"

"That's a brilliant theory, Hugo," said Ronnie, "except there's nothing written in it."

But Hugo pulled his wand saying, "It might be invisible ink." He tapped the diary three times and said, "Aparecium!" Nothing happened. Undaunted, he shoved his hand into his bag and pulled out a bright red eraser. "It's a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley," he said and rubbed hard on January first. Nothing happened.

"I'm telling you, there's nothing to find in there," said Ronnie. "Riddle just got a diary for Christmas and couldn't be bothered filling it in."

Nia couldn't explain, even to herself, why she didn't just throw Riddle's diary away. The fact was that even though she knew the diary was blank, she kept absentmindedly picking it up and turning the pages.

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were fast leaving childhood.

Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, however, was still convinced that Nia was the heir of Slytherin, and Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. He told Professor McGonagall: "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him..."

Nia spent a long time examining the diary that night. She sat on her four-poster and flicked through the blank pages until an idea occurred to her. She pulled a bottle of ink out of her bedside cabinet, dipped a quill into it, and dropped a blot onto the first page of the diary. The ink shone brightly on the paper for a second and then, as though it was being sucked into the page, vanished.

She gasped. Excited, Nia loaded up her quill a second time and wrote, _"My name is Eugenia Potter."_ The words shone momentarily on the page and they, too, sank without trace. Then, at last, something happened.

Oozing back out of the page, in his very own ink, came words Nia had never written. _"Hello, Eugenia. I'm Theresa."_ These words, too, faded away.

Nia quickly wrote a response. _"Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"_ She waited eagerly for Theresa's reply.

 _"Yes. In my fifth year at Hogwarts, the Chamber was opened and the monster attacked several students, finally killing one. I caught the person who'd opened the Chamber and he was expelled. But the Headmaster, Professor Dippet, ashamed, forbade me to tell the truth. They gave me a nice, shiny, engraved trophy for my trouble and warned me to keep my mouth shut."_

Nia's heart was hammering. _"Can you tell me who the culprit was?"_

Theresa's reply came quickly. _"No."_

Nia sighed, disappointed, but soon new words ooze to the surface.

 _"But I can show you."_

Nia hesitated, her quill suspended over the diary. Then the pages of the diary began to blow as though caught in a high wind, stopping halfway through the month of June. Mouth hanging open, Nia saw that the blank page seemed to have turned into a television screen.

She knew immediately what she was seeing: the circular room with the sleeping portraits was Dumbledore's office.


	24. chapter twenty-three

Act II — **more than our abilities**

Part XI — _t. m. riddle_

* * *

But it wasn't Atlas sitting behind the desk. A wizened, frail-looking wizard, bald except for a few wisps of white hair, was reading a letter by candlelight.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," said the old wizard in a feeble voice.

A girl of about sixteen entered. A silver prefect's badge was glinting on her chest. She was much taller than Nia and had long and straight flaming-red hair. "You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" she asked.

"Yes, Miss Riddle," said Dippet. "I've just been reading the letter you sent me."

"Oh," she said, gripping her hands together very tightly.

"My dear girl," said Dipper kindly, "I cannot possibly let you stay at school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"

"No," she said at once. "I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that... that..."

"You live in a Muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" said Dippet curiously.

"Yes, sir," she said, cheeks reddening.

"You are Muggle-born?"

"Half-blood, sir."

"And are both your parents...?"

"Dead, yes, sir."

Dipper clucked his tongue sympathetically. "The thing is, Terry, special arrangements might have been made for you, but in the current circumstances..."

"You mean all these attacks, sir?"

"Precisely. You must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy... the death of that poor girl... You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking about closing the school."

Theresa's eyes had widened. "Sir... if the person was caught... if it all stopped..."

"What do you mean?" said Dippet with a squeak in his voice. "Miss Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir."

Dippet sank back, looking faintly disappointed. "You may go then, Terry..."

Theresa got out of there but stopped in the middle of the corridor doing some serious thinking. She was biting her lip, her forehead furrowed. Then, as though she had reached a decision, she hurried off until she reached the dungeons.

Someone else was there, speaking in a hoarse whisper. "C'mon... gotta get yeh outta here... C'mon now... in the box..."

Theresa jumped around the corner. She could see the dark outline of a huge boy who was crouching in front of an open door, a very large box next to it. "Evening, Rubeus," said Theresa sharply.

The boy slammed the door shut and stood up. "What yer doin' down here, Terry?"

Theresa stepped closer. "It's all over," she said. "I'm going to have to turn you in. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."

"What?"

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone. But monsters don't make good pets."

"It never killed no one!" said the large boy, backing against the closed door.

"The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow," said Theresa. "The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered..."

"It wasn't him!" roared the boy. "Aragog wouldn'! He never!"

"Stand aside," said Theresa, drawing out her wand. Her spell lit the corridor with a sudden flaming light. The door behind the boy flew open with such force it knocked him into the wall opposite. And out of it came a vast, low-slung, hairy body and a tangle of black legs; a gleam of many eyes and a pair of razor-sharp pincers. Theresa raised her wand again but she was too late. The thing bowled her over as it scuttled away, tearing up the corridor and out of sight.

The scene whirled and the pages of the diary turned blank again.

* * *

Nia had always known that Hagrid had an unfortunate liking for large and monstrous creatures, but she was equally certain that Hagrid would never have meant to kill anybody. She half wished she hadn't found out how to work Theresa's diary. Again and again Ronnie and Hugo made her recount what she'd seen, until she was heartily sick of telling them.

"She might have got the wrong person," said Hugo. "Maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people..."

"How many monsters d'you think this place can hold?" Ronnie asked dully.

"We always knew Hagrid had been expelled," said Nia miserably. "And the attacks must've stopped after he was kicked out. Otherwise, Theresa wouldn't have got her award."

The three of them fell silent. After a long pause, Hugo voiced the knottiest question of all in a hesitant voice.

"Do you think we should go and ask him about it all?"

"That'd be a cheerful visit," said Ronnie. " Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?'"

In the end, they decided that they would not say anything to Hagrid unless there was another attack, and as more and more days went by with no whisper from the disembodied voice, they became hopeful that they would never need to talk to him about why he had been expelled. It was now nearly four months and everybody seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good.

Gryffindor's next Quidditch match, against Hufflepuff, was nearing. Wood was insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so that Nia barely had time for anything but Quidditch and homework. The evening before the match she went up to her dormitory to drop off her broomstick feeling Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better, thanks to that.

But her cheerful mood didn't last long. At the top of the stairs to the dormitory, she met Lavender Brown, who was looking frantic. "Oh, Nia, I don't know who did it... I just found..." Watching her fearfully, Lavender pushed open the door.

The contents of Nia's trunk had been thrown everywhere. The bedclothes had been pulled off her four-poster and the drawer had been pulled out of her bedside cabinet, the contents strewn over the mattress.

Nia walked over to the bed, open-mouthed, as Ronnie, Nadine, and Parvati came in.

Parvati gasped. "What happened, Nia?"

"No idea."

"Someone's been looking for something," said Ronnie. "Is there anything missing?"

Nia started to pick up all her things and throw them into her trunk. It was only as she threw the last of the Lockhart books back into it that she realized what wasn't there.

Theresa's diary was gone.

Hugo looked aghast at the news. "But only a Gryffindor could have stolen... nobody else knows our password..."

"Exactly," said Nia.

* * *

They woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

"Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Wood enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs.

But as Nia left the Great Hall with Ronnie and Hugo, she heard it yet again.

 _"Kill this time... let me rip... tear..."_

She shouted aloud and Ronnie and Hugo both jumped in alarm.

"The voice!" said Nia, looking over her shoulder. "I just heard it again... didn't you?"

Ronnie shook her head, wide-eyed. Hugo, however, clapped a hand to his forehead. "Nia... I think I've just understood something! I've got to go to the library!" And he sprinted away, up the stairs.

"Why's he got to go to the library?" said Nia distractedly, still looking around, trying to tell where the voice had come from.

"Because that's what he does," said Ronnie, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

Nia stood, irresolute, trying to catch the voice again, but people were now emerging from the Great Hall behind her, talking loudly, exiting through the front doors on their way to the Quidditch pitch.

"You'd better get moving," said Ronnie. "It's nearly time."

They followed the crowd swarming across the grounds, but Nia's mind was still in the castle along with the bodiless voice. They joined the rest of the team just when Professor McGonagall came half marching, half running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

"This match has been cancelled," she called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood, looking devastated, ran toward her.

"But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play... the cup... Gryffindor..."

Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" Then she lowered the megaphone and turned to Nia and Ronnie. "Potter, Weasley, I think you'd better come with me."

Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Nia and Ronnie followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase.

"This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. "There has been another attack... another double attack."

Nia's insides did a horrible somersault. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and Nia and Ronnie entered. Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. And on the bed next to her was Hugo lying utterly still, his eyes open and glassy.

"They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them..." She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

Nia and Ronnie shook their heads.

* * *

"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that it is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

"That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff, " said the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

Percy Weasley was sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he didn't seem keen to make his views heard. He was looking pale and stunned.

"Percy's in shock," George told Nia quietly. "That girl that was attacked, Penelope Clearwater, she's a prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a prefect."

But Nia was only half-listening. She didn't seem to be able to get rid of the picture of Hugo, lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone.

"What're we going to do?" said Ronnie quietly in her ear.

"We need to talk to Hagrid," said Nia, making up her mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."

"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class—"

"I think," said Nia, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old cloak out again."

They went to bed at the usual time, waited until Nadine, Lavender, and Parvati had fallen asleep, then got up and threw the cloak over themselves.

It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid's house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door.

Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

"Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're you two doin' here?"

"What's that for?" said Nia, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

"Nothin'... nothin'..." Hagrid muttered. "I've bin expectin'... doesn' matter. Sit down. I'll make tea." He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He kept glancing nervously at the windows.

"Are you okay, Hagrid?" said Nia. "Did you hear about Hugo?"

"Oh, I heard, all righ'," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.

There was a loud knock on the door.

Nia and Ronnie exchanged panic stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.

"Good evening, Hagrid."

It was Atlas. She entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a very odd-looking man. He had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression.

"That's Cornelius Fudge!" Ronnie breathed. "The Minister of Magic!"

Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty.

"Bad business," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

"I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Atlas. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, ma'am—"

"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Atlas, frowning at Fudge.

"Atlas," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something... the school governors have been in touch..."

"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Atlas. Her blue eyes were full of a fire Nia had never seen before.

"Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. I've got to take him."

"Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

"For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution..."

"Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

Atlas answered it. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

"Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good..."

"What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

"You call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmistress was here."

"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Atlas.

"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension. You'll find all twelve signatures on it. I'm afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? At this rate, there'll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful _loss_ that would be to the school."

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Atlas suspended... no, no... last thing we want just now."

"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid. "Take her away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Atlas sharply. She looked at Lucius Malfoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside. However," she added slowly, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me... Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

For a second, Nia was almost sure Atlas' eyes flickered toward the corner where she and Ronnie were hidden.

"Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your... er... highly individual way of running things." He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Atlas out.

Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That'd lead 'em right. An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away."

The door banged shut and Ronnie pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. "We're in trouble now," she said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day."

Fang started howling.

A second later, Nia spotted something. Several large spiders were scuttling over the ground on the other side of the glass, moving in an unnaturally straight line as though taking the shortest route to a prearranged meeting. "Look," she said pointing out the spiders.

"Oh, yeah," said Ronnie, trying, and failing, to look pleased.

"Looks like they're heading for the Forbidden Forest..."

Ronnie looked even unhappier about that.

"We can take Fang with us," said Nia. "He's used to going into the forest with Hagrid, he might be some help."

"Right," said Ronnie, who was twirling her hands nervously.

"C'mon, Fang, we're going for a walk," said Nia, patting his leg, and Fang bounded happily out of the house behind them, dashed to the edge of the forest, and lifted his leg against a large sycamore tree.

Nia took out her wand, murmured, _"Lumos!"_ and a tiny light appeared at the end of it, just enough to let them watch the path for signs of spiders.

"Okay," Ronnie sighed as though resigned to the worst, "I'm ready. Let's go."

So, with Fang scampering around them, sniffing tree roots and leaves, they entered the forest. They followed the steady trickle of spiders moving along the path. They walked behind them for about twenty minutes, not speaking, listening hard for noises other than breaking twigs and rustling leaves. Everything outside their little sphere of light was pitch-black. Nia had never been this deep into the forest before.

They followed the darting shadows of the spiders into the trees. They couldn't move very quickly now; there were tree roots and stumps in their way, barely visible in the near blackness. They walked for what seemed like at least half an hour.

Then Fang suddenly let loose a great, echoing bark, making both Nia and Ronnie jump out of their skins. Some distance to their right, something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees.

"Oh, no," said Ronnie. "Oh, no, oh, no, oh..." Her eyes were fixed on a point some ten feet above the forest floor, right behind Nia. Her face was livid with terror.

They had reached the ridge of a vast hollow, a hollow that had been cleared of trees, so that the stars shone brightly onto the worst scene Nia had ever laid eyes on.

Spiders. Not tiny spiders like those surging over the leaves below. Spiders the size of carthorses, eight-eyed, eight-legged, black, hairy, gigantic, clicking their pincers excitedly at them. Fang wasn't howling anymore, but cowering silently on the spot. Ronnie looked exactly like Nia felt. Her mouth was stretched wide in a kind of silent scream and her eyes were popping.

From the middle of the misty, domed web, a spider the size of a small elephant emerged, very slowly.


End file.
